Days of Awe

It’s been quiet on the blog so far this month, but the world of Gold Feather Gardens has been anything but. We set large goals for the fall and are achieving these week after week, bidding and building new gardens all around Boise.

A Garden in Progress in Boise’s North End

Last week though, the busyness of business, the weight of the world’s problems and my own body’s limits came to a head. It also happened to be the beginning of the Jewish High Holiday Season, so I took the universe (and my body’s) direction and took a much needed rest.

My culture has a phrase for this time of year that resonates with me now more than it has in the past. The name for these 10 days of rituals and celebrations translates to “The Days of Awe.” In essence, we take this time to reflect on the last year, letting go of all that’s happened and looking forward to what’s possible, what’s to come.

As always, I am looking for this meaning in my garden. Luckily for me, my culture loves natural metaphors. In the prayers and songs of this season, I am being constantly reminded to view life as I view the garden, as a place where regeneration happens constantly. A seed grows into a plant that dies, but not before it sends out more seeds that sprout new life. The cycle ends and begins again.

Last weekend, before the holiday, I spent a couple of hours pruning in my garden. I topped tomatoes, thinned plants out for air flow, planting seeds and harvesting as I went. I thought about how challenging this year has been for me as a gardener, a new business owner and a citizen of this world.

Stopping to Smell the Flowers While I Worked

This summer was hotter for longer and earlier than usual, and our plants, especially everyone’s beloved tomatoes, struggled. I was busier than I ever have been, so I neglected my own garden. I also neglected the signs my body was giving me, telling me to rest, up until the point I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

As my harvest basket filled and began to overflow, I worked through all the stress I felt from this year’s challenges. As I let go of those feelings, I saw that my plants were, in fact, hanging in there. That they, too, had let go of the stress they were under from this hot summer. They were growing and blooming again in the relief of the cooler weather, in effort to send out seeds for the next generation.

By the time I laid all of my bounty on the picnic table, I felt grounded and grateful for all that my garden has given me this year. I felt hopeful for what’s to come.

I know there are things I will do differently in the coming garden season. Some of those include planting less and tending more often, but most importantly, I will work to redefine what it means to be a successful gardener in my own mind. For me, a successful gardener is one who gardens every day, no matter the duration or yield.

Gardening, like an art, is a practice, a lifestyle, not a contest, and it’s a necessary practice for me to be my most authentic self. It helps me relieve stress and find hope in a stressful, seemingly hopeless world. The period of reflection and connection to the earth I find leaves me in awe of the power of gardening and of our earth’s ability to begin again.

I hope that no matter your spiritual background or gardening ability that these days of awe bring you periods of reflection and regeneration. If you haven’t planted for fall yet, now is a wonderful time to do so. In the meantime, I’m wishing all of you a sweet, healthy and happy new year.