August, the most mysterious month of our year, is also the pause before the next step.
This morning, I got up and chose a book on the seasons, looking for a gesture with which to welcome
the return to the work world shortly ahead.
I found this:
“Any time we make a garden, even a tiny one,
we are in the work of remembering.
Working the soil, cultivating our inner ground,
we have a chance to appreciate and praise
the great gift of life and the earth that sustains us.
We are held
by something so beyond our ken
and so essentially unknowable.
We call it God though no word can
name it.
Humming through us, through the ground,
through all things, it asks us
to be particular, to be living expressions,
to be sons and daughters oF EARTH and to care for life itself.
It asks us to be fruitful—to tend the garden,
to protect the garden, to share the garden,
to be the garden.”
GUNILLA NORRIS, from A Mystic Garden, 2006
There’s just one more line, too good to miss:
“One who plants a garden, plants happiness.””
(old Chinese proverb)
always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette
