The Top Ten Things I Learned from My Garden

1. Weed.

Planting seeds means that at some point you're going to have to remove some of the plants so that other ones have the chance to grow and thrive. In the same way, you only have so much space in your life and you need to get rid of the tolerations so you can have the room and the nutrients and the self-care to thrive and grow. In the same way that you let the bigger, stronger plants stay, concentrate on your strengths and let them grow.

2. If you keep doing what you've been doing you're going to keep getting what you've been getting.

There's a place in my garden that just needed a rose bush. I planted 5 there. It's like a blackhole. I went on to try other plants. Whatever I planted there died, and no matter what fertilizer, extra watering or xteme care I gave, I was finally forced to admit that for some reason nothing was going to grow there. I gave up what was essentially an ego position and went with the flow. It now is the place for my garden statuary.

3. On the other hand, If it ain't broke, don't fix it -- and don't listen to other people!

I have another place in my garden where the geraniums thrive all year round. My sister stayed with me a week and she didn't feel like I was watering my garden enough. I started watering the geraniums and now they are spindly and their leaves have turned pale and I question their survival. It seems they were thriving on my benign neglect and were very happy with the way things were.

4. Stay in touch with the soil and water. Stay in touch with life.

Some of my most peaceful moments take place in my garden. I don't wear gloves and I take off my shoes and walk in the mud and turn the soil with my bare fingers. I work with people and with ideas, and bringing my body in contact with the soil keeps me grounded.

5. There's a time to reap and a time to sow.

You'll learn the old elemental cycles of nature. There will be those magnificent sparkling snapdragons for just a few moments in the spring, panseys when it's too cold for anything to grow, and chrysanthemums in the fall bringing back memories of high school football games and mum corsages. Eventually the tomato crop will come in and when they die, it'll be time to plant the broccoli. It's our traditions and the cycles of the year that bring meaning and order to our lives.

6. Delight in the abundant surprises of nature.

The rose bush didn't grow, and the impatiens didn't take off, but a crepe myrtle arose, a shoot from another one about 5' away, when I had no idea they propagated; and the biggest surprise of all -- out of nowhere some chile petines arrived. I have no idea where they came from, but they're welcome as the day is long. Nature provides.

7. Nothing tastes as good as something you grew yourself.

Invest yourself in what you're doing and it will always taste better. It's the projects you really work hard on that have meaning.

8. Find a partner who compliments you.

One year the man in my life and I had a vegetable garden. I planned it, with my usual enthusiasm, and plotted everything out. He dug the holes and planted what I'd planned with not much enthusiasm, but a sort of dogged determination. I watched the things come up and was thrilled, and then lost interest. He was the one who faithfully watered, and weeded, and fertilized and kept the crops going with no imagination, just hard work. Then when the harvest came in, I cooked up great things. He liked the meals and pronounced the garden a Good Thing after all. I'm a Strategist who likes to plan things all out and then turn it over to someone else, someone who's not a dreamer, to implement it. We were a good team. Now the garden is all mine and I appreciate all the more his former contribution. He may never dream and vision as I do, and I may never have a taste for doing the same thing day in and day out as he did, so we made a good team and each learned things from the other to incorporate into our lives.

9. Thorns and beetles and hornets and snails and worms.

I have cuts and scratches on my hands and arms, like the wrinkles on my face -- signs that I've lived and been in touch with life. When I go out to the garden I meet all sorts of critters that are part of life on this planet and my companions on the journey. There are bugs that want to eat the roses; and snails, whose function I do not know; and worms that are making it all possible; and hornets I must avoid. They quietly go about their daily business, intent on their own thing, which may or may not conflict with mine, and sometimes we meet.

10. Butterflies.

Butterflies, like happiness, just come and light on your shoulder. Though I planted a Butterfly Bush, it didn't attract butterflies, but other things have. From time to time (I think it's a migration) butterflies arrive in my garden while I'm doing other things. I can't predict their arrival, and my attempts to summon them didn't work, but still they come! I can't make it happen, but I can count on it happening just the same. Like happiness. When it's least expected it will arrive.