If you ask the simple question, "What does it take to make things grow?", you get a multitude of answers. Think in terms of a garden... You need sunlight. True. You need water. True. You need dirt. True, yet again. All of those things are unquestionably essential. But can you grow things with nothing but dirt, water, and sun? Sure you can.
But to grow things well, you might want to till the dirt before you get started. Dig it up deeply. Stir things up. You might even want to mix in some undesireables. They're available whether you want them or not, so instead of excluding them, welcome them in. Mushroom soil, or just plain old manure, or even something as simple as dead fish. All those stinky things that we'd rather suppress or put away from our minds (and noses)... Because without that malodorous fertilizer to encourage growth it will likely not be quite as productive.
Then you're going to need some good seeds. I mean, there's nothing wrong with letting the birds plant your garden for you, but it takes some effort on your part to choose those things YOU desire to grow. We all love the poison ivy that shows up uninvited, but it's not quite as nice as the petunias you had hoped for. And it surely cannot take the place of an ear of corn on your dinner plate.
So we take a little forethought, we till the ground until the soil is loose and ready to plant, then till a bit more to mix in all the stinky stuff, create our furrows, plant our seeds.
Then we go off and take a long summer's nap and await the crop? No?
My frustration has been, prepare as I might, once the garden is growing, it's all too easy to get busy and forget to tend it. But at some point, when the green shoots start to push through this fertile ground, not all of them are friendly. There are the wild seeds planted by birds, the grass whose roots managed to survive the tiller. Everything wants to jump into your little patch of heaven. If you pay attention to the garden, you will see the need to tend your crop, whether that is to hoe a few weeds or to put a bit of mulch down around the keepers so as to encourage their growth while slowing down the other, it takes a bit of constant nurturing but sooner or later you will end up with a thriving garden.
Imagine, if you will, midsummer arriving, with its varying downpours and long days of harsh sunlight, the garden growing at a rapid pace, then withering a bit in the heat of the day. If you have done your job well, there will be enough cover to hold in moisture so that the crop can continue to grow, little competition of distracting weeds. But what would happen if you decided that the smell of the manure is too strong? Would you get a shop vac, and enter the garden, to remove that unpleasantness? Will you go in with shovels to do the same?
Of course not! It would be not only utterly silly, it would be disastrous. Without the rich soil to support the roots of your plants, they would wither and die.
With proper care you will have a wonderful crop.
Imagine our lives, our souls, as a huge, living, breathing ecosystem. A garden inside our bodies. With careful tending, the crops we grow will thrive, through storm and drought. Through long sunny days and dark, dark nights.
But it seems that as humans, we cannot accept the imperfect inside of ourselves. We must destroy it, suppress it, throw it out. The dead fish and the manure must go. And our lives are diminished because of it.
What if, instead, we were to accept that these unpleasant things are just byproducts of a natural process, and incorporate them in some healthy way? Why not accept them and not dwell on the negativity, and find ways to enrich ourselves through that acceptance?
We can grow a garden, of sorts, with only sunlight, water, and dirt. But wouldn't our garden be better if we put some forethought and care into it? Carefully till and fertilize, select only the best seeds to plant in just the right places, and lovingly nurture them. As weeds sprout, we find them, and acknowledge them, and return them to the compost bin to be recycled with the new crop of fertilizer, for future crops, allowing the good plants space to grow and thrive.
