Upon learning of the Lilly massacre, a dear friend sent me bulbs to replace those who died in action, along with a variety of other lovely new plant friends. Oh yeah—the lily colors were selected to MATCH MY HAIR!! How awesome is that?!?!
They came last week. On a difficult day, matter of fact. While I was thinking and evaluating and yeah, hurting a little, too. In the midst of emotional mud, new flowers showed up. Grow something beautiful from your mud.
Lilies and Freesia came first. I was going to put them aside for a few days to figure it all out, much like my concerns. Box it up, nice, tidy and neat. Get myself a new, large and perfect container to plant all the lilies in—all organized and sorted. Unambiguous.
But my neighbor showed up with even more seeds and “spare” potting soil for me to use. She bought more than she needed, I think to make sure I had plenty. And as soon as she offered, I got an overwhelming urge to get my hands in the dirt, plant those suckers NOW. Planting always grounds me, calms me and helps clarify feelings. It always helps me feel things are right. Tidy or not, perfect or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s the act that takes me out of my head and connects me to a bigger world.
Well, these flowers aren’t going in the ground. Not here. Nothing I’m attached to in any way, shape or form is going into the ground here, not anymore.
Of course, most of my friends from years past are still live in the ground. This phlox, for example, is really working it…I did set aside some phlox in a pot, well, just in case. Portable! I’m ready to pick up and change direction as needed.
So I just planted. And I started to feel better. Not completely, not instantaneously, but better. Enough.
I grabbed a frog planter in honor of the Scorpio toad…If I spray painted it black, it would look just like him…now every time I see it, I will think of him and what he may have to say to me. Even though toads were often looked upon with suspicion and dread historically, I know he didn’t have an evil spirit. Black toad or not, he was Zen. I respect his visit.
And do you know, one of those new lilies is already sprouting? He popped out of the dirt almost as soon as I’d planted him. He was more than ready. Much easier than I expected. What else may sprout for me, quicker and easier than I ever imagined?
And the seeds came, too. Morning Glories and Night Flowers, Passion Flowers and Coneflowers. I can hardly wait to plant them all!
For most of my seeds, I do want to get a huge, round pot, so I can pop my trellis in the middle and create a portable, magical gateway, you know? The Morning and Night flowers together are very Yin/Yang Goddess/God Sun/Moon. I love the polarity—and having been reading up on Wicca, of course the dual representation is perfect. I’m also planting them with the Passion flower seeds to bind the energies of day and night with “passion,” i.e. emotional energy.
I haven’t decided what to do with my coneflowers yet, but my daughter-in-law is working on some pots that will be painted with chalkboard paint. Since coneflowers are known to enhance spells, I think a pot I could draw magical symbols on might be a good home for them…sure, pentagrams or astrological symbols may freak out the neighbors, but who cares? I’ve long since stopped bothering about the neighbors. I’ll just see what shows up when I’m ready to plant ’em.
I’ll tell you something: the lily incident really did draw to my attention how much this humble little garden means to me. It’s so long been a source of comfort and quiet, a little sacred space, I had been taking it for granted. You know? Last year, I didn’t even plant anything. Friends from years prior filled my pots and the little plot of dirt I have. It was just…there, effortless, without my thinking about it. I was pleased but didn’t think so much of how important it is to me. Now, I’m thinking about it more and that has made me recognize how very valuable this little bit of sacred space really is to me. Appreciate the beauty and magic in the everyday.
One thing I’ve noticed since I’ve starting planting—we keep getting gentle, sporadic rain. It feels blessed.
Are you emotionally attached to your garden?