Weather is a BIG letting go. You have absolutely NO control over the weather. None. Zero. ZIP. Last year, the weather woes included a brilliantly warm and sunny March, a freezing killing cold in April-May, a searing hot and dry June, July, and August. The water bill for irrigating was huge; the fruit harvest was miserly, as was the corn harvest (that the raccoons didn't get); and the perennial beds were less than spectacular. But, if you could irrigate, the other veggies did fine. We filled the freezer with tomato sauce, beans, broccoli, butternut squash and gave away tons more.
This year has been the summer of WET. Rain, rain, rain and then, hey, let's rain some more. Mold grew everywhere, even indoors on my kitchen cabinets! One day we had 12 tomato plants. Seven days later, they were ALL DEAD. Late blight had infected every single one of them, and they had to be pulled, bagged and thrown out. Even the "volunteers" that sprouted up in the compost pile got it. No lovely sweet tomatoes with grilled steak. No BLT's. No tomato sauce for the winter. (Of course that's all silly. Right up the street I can buy organic tomatoes and anything else I want. It's just that ..... me, me, me..... I couldn't get them from MY garden. Boo hoo!) The potatoes began to get late blight too, but not before I could pull and harvest a meager number of them. Nothing to do. Ah well. Letting go.
Bugs and disease offer more opportunities to let go. If you are of the organic persuasion, black spot and infestations of insects have the same sort of sweep. You do "due diligence" by inspecting your plants regularly, but when certain bad bugs or fungus appear, you are limited in what you can or want to do. Letting go of having perfect plants, perfect fruits.
My father was an organic gardener long before it was trendy. His philosophy was, "if it lives, good --- if it doesn't live, eh". Now, that is the ultimate "letting go" attitude. He'd prepare the gardens in the spring with worm-filled compost, plant the seeds/seedlings, pay minimal attention to them all summer, harvest and rejoice in what he got out of it at the end of the season, prepare the compost piles for the next year, and relax over the winter, getting ready to start again. Not bad. Keeping it simple. Nice.
Spiritual Letting Go
Woven into most of what I have learned about letting go is a balance between effort and release. It doesn't mean one turns into mush and just floats around willy-nilly. But one does have to dig down and find out what is at the core of one's heart and stay true to that... exerting an effort that is not too tight, not too loose... suspending judgements about appearances... looking for the blessings in disguise... using one's heart-sense as a rudder to guide the flow.
Letting go seems to be a universal element of any spiritual path. Let go of anger. Let go of resentment. Let go of pride/envy/hurt/greed/on-and-on-and-on..and on.
Letting go of wanting what you don't have...
letting go of having what you don't want!
...daily
...moment to moment.
Letting go in the garden helps me practice letting go of these bigger things in life. It's an awareness practice... noticing tendencies... recognizing habits of mind. Releasing the tendency to bathe too long in the agony of things gone bad or the ecstasy of the victories. Finding a way to accept and savor it all without squeezing the life out of it.
This year has been the summer of WET. Rain, rain, rain and then, hey, let's rain some more. Mold grew everywhere, even indoors on my kitchen cabinets! One day we had 12 tomato plants. Seven days later, they were ALL DEAD. Late blight had infected every single one of them, and they had to be pulled, bagged and thrown out. Even the "volunteers" that sprouted up in the compost pile got it. No lovely sweet tomatoes with grilled steak. No BLT's. No tomato sauce for the winter. (Of course that's all silly. Right up the street I can buy organic tomatoes and anything else I want. It's just that ..... me, me, me..... I couldn't get them from MY garden. Boo hoo!) The potatoes began to get late blight too, but not before I could pull and harvest a meager number of them. Nothing to do. Ah well. Letting go.
Bugs and disease offer more opportunities to let go. If you are of the organic persuasion, black spot and infestations of insects have the same sort of sweep. You do "due diligence" by inspecting your plants regularly, but when certain bad bugs or fungus appear, you are limited in what you can or want to do. Letting go of having perfect plants, perfect fruits.
My father was an organic gardener long before it was trendy. His philosophy was, "if it lives, good --- if it doesn't live, eh". Now, that is the ultimate "letting go" attitude. He'd prepare the gardens in the spring with worm-filled compost, plant the seeds/seedlings, pay minimal attention to them all summer, harvest and rejoice in what he got out of it at the end of the season, prepare the compost piles for the next year, and relax over the winter, getting ready to start again. Not bad. Keeping it simple. Nice.
Spiritual Letting Go
Woven into most of what I have learned about letting go is a balance between effort and release. It doesn't mean one turns into mush and just floats around willy-nilly. But one does have to dig down and find out what is at the core of one's heart and stay true to that... exerting an effort that is not too tight, not too loose... suspending judgements about appearances... looking for the blessings in disguise... using one's heart-sense as a rudder to guide the flow.
Letting go seems to be a universal element of any spiritual path. Let go of anger. Let go of resentment. Let go of pride/envy/hurt/greed/on-and-on-and-on..and on.
Letting go of wanting what you don't have...
letting go of having what you don't want!
...daily
...moment to moment.
Letting go in the garden helps me practice letting go of these bigger things in life. It's an awareness practice... noticing tendencies... recognizing habits of mind. Releasing the tendency to bathe too long in the agony of things gone bad or the ecstasy of the victories. Finding a way to accept and savor it all without squeezing the life out of it.
