quiet time with garden thoughts during an ice storm...

It is a grim, cold, and gray day in our Berkshire hills: a thin coating of ice shrouds our bushes, the deck in increasingly a sea of mush, and the roads are treacherous. Good thing we're staying inside to drink Scottish Breakfast tea and listen to John Renbourn and friends play tunes from the old country. 

After tidying my study - including sequestering our suitcase of Advent/Christmas CDs back into solitude - it was time to order native seeds and plants for the vernal planting season. Late in the fall I dug two new seed beds which will become raised beds come March. 

Some five years ago, while wandering Brome Lake Books (home of Louise Penny and the Gamache series set in Québec's Cantons de l'Est (Eastern Townships), Di encouraged me to bring home Jessi Bloom's Everyday Sanctuary: A Workbook for Designing a Sacred Garden Space. It was a good call for a host of reasons. Early on Ms. Bloom quotes Joseph Campbell: "Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again." Then, before offering a wise overview of ethical concerns in designing sacred space, she writes: "What is sacred space? No two people have the same response to this question, but most focus on themes of peacefulness, protection from a harsh world, and rejuvenation." Bloom tells us that creating a sacred space garden must take time for pondering and prayer, research, planning, watching the movement of the sun across the land, discovering what animals show up, and then taking within the soul care that happens for all of us in the cosmos through these tiny acts.

The earth is alive, breathing and evolving, and all that she carries and supports forms a weave of complex ecosystems that are critical for life. I believe as stewards of the land, we are to honor it first and foremost. Then we can feel and envision what we need, want, and desire, and make sure this is in alignment with what the land needs in order to be cared for. As you design your sanctuary garden, refer to these ethical guidelines, which also form the foundation of permaculture, a design approach to living sustainably on the earth. Note that whenever one ethic seems to be in conflict with another, the first trumps the rest: 1) care for the earth; 2) care for people; 3) give back; 4) pace yourself.

Over the last half decade I've come to appreciate each of these markers - especially the last - pace yourself. As one who came of age in white Middle America in the 50s and 60s, I like to "get the job done!" But as Gertrud Mueller-Nelson advises: "Nothing healthy comes about through rushing..." So, as much as I want to see the fruit of my labors, I've learned a measure of patience in the crafting of the garden sanctuary. Early on I planted tomatoes without ample sun. Same, too with pumpkins. I dug a new garden bed in a place Lucie likes to pee in! I had NO idea what to do with voles. Or the mildew and mold that can show up on squash vines. Each challenge has been a lesson in research and slowing down. Bloom wisely notes:

It's not just about the end goal but also about how we get there. The approach we use is just as important as the end product. We want to acknowledge that any transition takes time. We are not going to change overnight from stressed-out urban dwellers to perfectly balanced beings who incorporate nature's gifts into our daily routines. We must be patient and gentle with ourselves as we engage the question of how to find every sanctuary and as we form new, healthier habits in our lives. Building our sanctuary space and practices may take a period of years and is best understood as an ongoing journey toward wellness.

Settling into this place as our permanent resting place was not part of our original plan when we moved from Tucson nearly 15 years ago. Once again, however, we had to learn how little we genuinely control, yes? Making peace with reality is a work in progress. A spiritual practice of letting go and discovering the holy in the quiet, small places. This sacred garden continues to teach me to wait - and ask simple questions including "what is the condition of our soil? Is it more clay, loam, or sand? Which areas remain soggy after a rainfall and which areas dry out quickly?" The second year brought a grand crop of wild flowers, but the deer soon ate away all the flower tips in record time demanding a new strategy for the next year. Wise old Wendell Berry said it well: 

Whether we and our politicians know it or not, Nature is party to all our deals and decisions, and she has more votes, a longer memory, and a sterner sense of justice than we do.