What My Garden Teaches Me

(This post is one of several I have written that attempts to explain what Druidry means to me, in a practical every day sense.)

My garden is my primary Druidry instructor. My garden brings the Universe down to a size that my feeble human mind can wrap itself around and understand. My garden lets me participate in the drama of birth and life and death in a way that draws me in and compels me to pay attention. My garden is a metaphor for me, for my life, and for my place in the universe.

This verse, adapted from a popular poem (Dorothy Frances Gurney) sums this up quite nicely for me.

"The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth...
One is nearer the divine in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth."


All of nature is my teacher. But in my garden, as with any personal relationship, the lessons I learn are more poignant and compelling because they take place closest to where I live, closest to my heart. So, what has my garden taught me over the years?



It's taught me that I am happiest when I have dirt under my fingernails.



It's taught me that you can wrestle with Mother Nature, but you can't truly "win." You may gain some mastery over her for a short time, but as the saying goes, "Nature always bats last." In the end, she will do as she always does - and that is as it should be.



It's taught me that working with Nature is far better than working against it.



It's taught me that the natural ways of soil and clean air and moist humus and warm sun make for happier plants and a healthier gardener.



It's taught me that no matter how small a space I may have, I will always be happiest sharing it with something else that is alive.



My garden has taught me that all life is intertwined and dependent. Human life is no exception to this rule.



It has taught me that even the humblest, most "desolate" place may hide some magic within - if you look for it.



It has taught me that the smell of green things growing is far better than any perfume.



It has also taught me my place. The garden feeds me. One day I will feed it. Life will go on, but in a different way, and that is also as it should be.