I love going into the garden daily. Everyday I approach it like I have a new set of eyes. When I’m looking, I always see something different. Yesterday’s blossom is now a teeny tiny bean. The bees have moved on from one plant who’s on the end of its blooming cycle to one that just started. A squash flower has opened, hoping for pollination so it can begin to fruit. A toad had burrowed in a different location, waiting to gobble up a grasshopper (oh thank you so much Mr. Garden Toad, mad love for you buddy!).

Being surround by these changes, specifically, having the capacity to see these fine differences, reminds me that I’m part of something so big. Something bigger than I can comprehend or have words to explain. That the world is full of wonder. That I have a purpose within it (even maybe if I don’t have a clear definition of what that is). When I recognize small changes in the garden, I am able to do so because I am awake. And because I am awake, I feel alive!
Now, when we are asleep (figuratively), we lack the ability to connect deeply with the people, places and things happening around us. Snore. We might notice big changes, but we can’t see (or just don’t notice) the minutiae. Perhaps we are wrapped up in feelings that are so big we let them define who we are and they eat every ounce of our energy. We can’t see the forest for the trees, so to say. When this happens, what then are we missing out on because we’ve allowed certain things in our lives to consume us? In the garden, say I plant a lot of tomatoes and only a few snap peas. Obviously, I get more tomatoes because I gave them so much space and tomatoes plants tend to produce a lot of fruit. However, after tasting the peas I see how good they are, but now I have no room to plant more peas….because, you know, all the tomatoes. So I move forward managing tomatoes, picking tomatoes, eating tomatoes, selling tomatoes, when what I really want are more snap peas. (Snap peas are seriously so good, aren’t they?!) Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes. More snore. I’m going through the motions. I’m asleep.
In the garden, I recognize times when my plants are, figuratively, asleep. And there is most often a good reason for this state. Perhaps water is scarce. Or cold nights significantly slow growth. A plant puts all its energy into reserves, unsure what will come next, trying to protect itself. (Humans do this too, am I right?) Rightfully so, they can’t thrive without the right conditions. But, the plants sole purpose? It’s to grow. So, when the conditions improve, it doesn’t forget its purpose. It doesn’t stay sleeping, it begins to grow. A pea plant can shoot up 4 inches in one day. I’ve seen it, so crazy. And then it sends out a tendril to hang on to its trellis for support. With better support and conditions, it is now awake after being asleep and is following through with its purpose. Grow. Produce. Share. Feed. When we approach life with an awake mind, we can see, listen to, and experience the world around us in the finest of ways. We find wonder in small things. We listen to, because we can finally freaking hear, our intuition. We look deeper, because we want to know more. We have readiness to learn something new and we don’t keep what we learn to ourselves, because we want to connect. We thrive in community, and sometimes we need that trellis for support, just like the pea plant. Needing the support doesn’t stop our growth, it SUPPORTS it.
Being awake in life doesn’t mean perfection. Conditions might change, but when we are awake, we adapt and we grow, knowing we are moving towards, within, or fine-tuning our purpose. Just like the bees who move to a different plant when the blooms run dry. Or Mr. Toad who stakes out a new position because he’s awake, noticed a change in the number of grasshoppers he has access too, and went with the flow of it. Because he want to feed himself to survive.
So, how do you ‘feed’ yourself so that you stay awake? For me, it changes with the seasons, but I know for myself that the key is never abandoning curiosity and wonder. In summer, I know I can always find a place for this in the garden. In winter, it’s traveling to a new destination to explore new sights, food, culture and experiences. Year round, it’s moving my body, feeding it healthy food, spending time with friends who fill my bucket and support me when needed. If I don’t do these things, I start to fall asleep.
Staying awake isn’t always easy (think doomscrooling, an example of an asleep function that’s easy). But staying awake is always worth it.
I challenge you today to do just one thing out of your ordinary. Something that supports your awakeness. It could be as simple as doing a crossword puzzle, calling a friend, smelling a flower, watching a bird, or trying a new food from your local farmstand (hint). Then, afterwards, take a intentional moment to recognize how it made you feel.
Wishing you joy in your awakeness,
-L

