Nutrients from the ground
As I was tidying up after dinner last night, I had to decide: Do I throw out the leftover chard cooking liquid, or drink it? It honestly didn’t take much deliberation to make short work of that delicious nutrient-rich beverage.
Had that chard come from the grocery store, I might have hesitated, not remembering if it was organic, or how old it was. But, I knew it was just picked this morning and organic. I was certain because I picked it, and I’m the one in charge of what nutrients it received and how it was treated.
It was especially delicious because the joy of gardening was infused with those nutrients.
As I savored the earthy green flavor and reflected on its origins, I grew more and more grateful. Here I was absorbing nutrients from a piece of earth not 20’ from where I was standing.
I realized my garden gave me more than fresh vegetables, it strengthened my self-care muscle to plant what I love. I learned that eating by my own hand honors my independence/self-sufficiency value. There are many levels of nutrient flowing from that garden.
Thinking about that chard made me wonder…
- If my life were a garden, what would be in my soil? What nutrients am I taking in? They don’t all have to be sunshine and light either. A plant absorbs whatever is in the ground. What’s in the ground?
- And if my life were a garden, what would I grow? How would my special gifts manifest themselves? How can I choose a path that honors the fruit I bear? That honors me?
- And if my life were a garden, I’d recognize the weeds a little earlier and give myself permission to snuff those little buggers out. I’d know that sometimes things need to be transplanted in order to grow.
- And if my life were a garden, I’d remember it’s OK for others to grow what they like. Someone will surely offer an opinion as to what you should grow, but you don’t have to take their advice. Grow what you like.
After all, we are each the gardener of our own life. We each get to choose what to plant. We choose which fruit-bearing interest to nurture and which to stifle. We choose what is a weed and what needs to be transplanted. We each get to reap our harvest.
But unlike my chard, we have an advantage. We each get to choose our soil. You may not have been planted in the most optimal surroundings, but different choices do create different circumstances.
Your choices don’t have to be earth-shaking to eventually reconstruct your world.
Just pull one weed.