The Garden as the Container for Space
Writing by Neive Tierney and photo by Clayton Boyd.
Space- just the word makes me take a long exhale. It is something I am always craving more of. Mostly space in my schedule and mind. Space in the day, week, and month. Some room to feel like I am not on the mouse wheel of modern life. Space to me means slowing down, disconnecting from my phone, observing, journaling, and thinking deeply. Space is doing my best to get out of my ‘ to-do list’ brain. Taking a break from the constant stream of ‘shoulds’ my mind supplies and just being, existing, breathing, drinking a cup of tea.
My modest little garden has become a sacred container where ‘space’ can happen for me. There is something subtle yet monumental about being with the plants whose existence is a constant, never rushing presence. When I can connect to this I am grounded and calm. There is the sun on my skin or the cool air on a cloudy day. Feelings that our skin evolved to sense daily, not only on the weekends or on vacation but all the time. Weather as a sensation of the body instead of a cloud cartoon on our weather app. There are the birds and the squirrels that I love to watch. They are always busy but not in the desperate existentially lost way that most of us humans do “busy”. Theirs is a purposeful and intrinsic carrying out of daily duties. Singing in the morning or protecting their branch from others. Watching these creatures always makes me smile.
Being in my garden allows me to claim the space that I yearn for and find so difficult to carve out for myself elsewhere in my life. What kind of world is it where we feel like we must be constantly productive just to keep up? Or when watching TV is the only means of “not doing”, but TV does not provide us space. It only distracts us from the to-do list instead of clearing it. Space fills me with a sense of the present moment. A sense that I am actually witnessing my existence, truly aware of it, and wow is this reassuring.
This is a beautiful and necessary state of consciousness for me and I am immensely grateful for the space my garden provides me. I can sit amongst the plants and appreciate time and patience through witnessing them. I can be in awe of the beauty they make out of soil, sun, and water. I can listen to the birds, watch them feed on seeds and communicate with each other, and be reminded of the playfulness and joy a child feels when they see animals in the wild. Because let's be honest, we all still feel it no matter how old we are. The garden has magic capabilities of giving me the space I desperately need. I come to this place when I am in need and I give back. I trim, water, weed, and acknowledge my gratitude to the plants and creatures whose interconnection creates this magic and reminds me of my own belonging.
