Last Morsel—In the Garden
Written onSeptember 01 , 2008
Growing food in a garden gives us a close-up look at Life—like being at the New England Aquarium in Boston and pressing up against the glass to watch a giant turtle swim by.
In the garden, though, we do more than just stand at the glass. Rather, we work with the web of life, cooperate with nature, collaborate with Mother Earth. Want to know how roots work? Grow food. Want to learn how to keep somebody healthy? Grow food. Want to care if it rains? Grow food.
So many people live their lives in a media-ted world—in newspapers, political ideas, e-mail. Kids get cracked out in the sociopathic, heartless dreamtime of Grand Theft Auto 4. We can all be healed by hanging out in the sun, composting, waiting for peas to grow.
Enough domination and subjugation. More collaboration, cooperation, as in “Mother Earth, I’ll plant the peas, you bring the rain, and we’ll meet in the crunching sound in six weeks.”
I grow organic food as a job, but I would also probably pay to do it. The garden is a source of compostable material for spiritual contemplation. I like to think of God as Gardener, trying to bring humanity to fruit the way we desire success when we grow our Sun Gold cherry tomatoes. I sense that the Divine Source, that Intelligent Grower of Life who got us here, cares as much about humanity and the Earth as I do about my garden. (Probably more, as I’ve really let things slide in there lately.)
In the garden we get to be co-creative within a larger living system. In the garden we are part of something bigger, and the borders of this experience disappear into the mysterious.