I have hundreds of pictures of my garden in most of its stages of bloom. I have documented the tender shoots of early spring when snowdrops bow their graceful white heads and hollyhock leaves push up through the earth and debris of winter. I have photos of crocus and lilac blossoms, bleeding hearts and well, all of the plants in their full color and beauty. However, that is only part of my garden's story. Until this morning when I decided to drag my camera into the garden to document the hydrangea finally dropping its leaves, the last few monkshood faded blossoms and the few russet leave left on the red maple, I've had no photos of my garden in late Autumn.
As winter is over a month away and the sun shines brightly through newly bare trees, I yearn for spring and summer. I lament the faded colors, lack of flowers; I look for summer where it cannot be. This is at once a metaphor for how I live all of life and how I resist the cooler seasons.
A week or so ago, I found myself in a similar situation in several relationships in my life with a particularly telling twist. There are times when others let you down and you are dissatisfied with them. Other times, a friend or friends let you know in no uncertain terms that you've let them down. However, in this particular moment, I was rich in dissatisfactions moving in both directions! I was in a delicious state of dis-ease and mindfulness. It was ridiculous and real and inevitable. I remembered the days of my youth when I was sure that I would respond in loving, sensitive ways to those I held dear when they were most in need. I reviewed many of those moments; deaths, illnesses, divorces, crises... So many opportunities and so few moments when I responded as I would have imagined. Really. How can it be so hard? My group of friends and I had put a good amount of space between ourselves and our difficult families and created our own 'chosen family.' We created rituals and traditions, laughed, feasted, vacationed and yet... when the shit hit the fan, we often let each other down. OK, I let others down. Sometimes they let me down. Not always but so much more often than any of us would ever have imagined.
In this balance of dissatisfaction with others, and others' dissatisfaction with me, it dawned on me, again and as if for the first time 'we are all doing our best.' Simple but radical. It is not lack of heart or good intention that causes these failures; it is simply the human condition. In life's most difficult moments, we are afraid, distracted, hurt, and unsure. It is not personal and while we are still alive, there are limitless opportunities to try again and again and again.
So, I whipped off a note to a friend whom I've been less than present for. I let go of the frustration I'd been holding tightly in my fist. I forgave myself and others as much as I could and I took a few deep breaths. This week, I've felt a little freer and I've been able to reach out to a few loved ones in need. Not as many as I should probably, but many more than I usually do. I'm doing what I can knowing that it won't be enough. Knowing that what I hope to communicate may not be received in the way I intended.
In the garden sparrows have been nibbling on grass seed (I don't weed much) and sitting on the Buddha's shoulders. The sun is bright through those naked branches. Holly berries have turned red and the bird feeders are busy. Winter is coming. It will be cold and my body will ache more. There will be beauty and darkness. Candles, if I light them, will warm and brighten my evenings. There is nothing I can do about it but if I let go of the resistance, I may find treasures there. And the spring will come. It is inevitable.
