Twenty yrs ago, I moved to a wooded area, 75 miles North of Atlanta.
Living in the woods really suited me. It was my playground as a 'feral' child growing up in Ohio. . . Screened door slamming at dusk, with stones in my pockets, twigs in my hair, tadpoles in hand, adventures to share. . . .
Clearly, I would grow to need an 'office' with no walls, windows, ceilings or doors.
For almost 17yrs, now, I have lived in Atlanta. I did not move here for work.
I was moved by love. . . still am.
N E V E R, did I think that I would live 'intown.'
I resisted, somewhat, & put a 5-7yr limit on staying in our zipcode. Before that time was up, we got a divine place on a river, in the mountains, that soothed our souls. It is our 'getaway', which we don't get away to often enough.
Once I let myself open up to a larger community, 'intown,' Atlanta became my home.
Around that time, I planted my first public garden, in our neighborhood park, as a memorial to honor a friend.
Over the yrs, many people have tended the space. Some have planted. Some have weeded. Some have picked flowers. Most of them are unknown to me.
There is a sweetness in the care & kindness of strangers. We've, somehow, met each other in this garden, over and over again, year after year.
With awareness, our interwoven relationships can't be denied. A 'golden thread' seems to connect us . . . root us . . . ground us.
Here is a passage from "The Sun My Heart" by Thich Nhat Hahn
"Awareness is at the same time cause and effect, concentration and understanding, stopping and looking. As soon as the light of awareness is lit, we concentrate, we are peaceful, we see ourselves more clearly..."
Namaste Bhadra Kali,
ReplyDeleteYour blog space and posts are almost as beautiful as the flowers and foods you grow! Thanks for sharing this space with us. I'm particularly moved by this post as I again find myself making a home--somewhere else. I've arrived in Halifax, Nova Scotia at the end of June, just in time to plant tomatoes in this climate. The air is crisp and smells like the sea; the rhododendron grows as tall as a three story building; the roses smell like they should be sold at high dollar in a fancy bottle. I can't get enough of this place, but, it is still not my home--not Atlanta--not Kashi.
I'm attempting to make a garden grow here on my large balcony. I've planted boxes of wax begonia and fern, a myriad of herbs, and yes, tomatoes. I'm hopeful that these little bits will grow and in doing so help me to "see more clearly" in this new circumstance and grow where I must.
So Much Love,
Krishna Mayee