`It’s raining in my garden. We haven’t had rain in weeks. Sitting here at my computer the sound of the gentle continuous shower nudges my characters’ progress aside as I work on my latest novel. It seems to insist “listen to me, come see, come see.” I rise regretting, for just an instant missing what the next moment would have told me about this book. As I open the backdoor, the garden looks so happy. A breeze moves over me and seems to leave happiness in its passing.
Out in the garden the colors are darker, truer. The fragrances so soothing they ease the weariness of the constant health challenges and nonrefundable decisions to be made.
Looking out at that contained space of the garden I think, maybe the clouds held up the stresses of daily life, collected them like water droplets that grew the clouds ponderous and heavy. It is as if those little daily tugs at peace and safety were hung in those clouds.
Then, while I was unaware and involved in the lives of my characters and the beauty of finding just the right word, the perfect phrase, the juxtaposition that illumines the manuscript, the clouds were no longer able to contain more of our stresses or the water droplets. They released that fragrant magic element “water”. Yes, but more essential the cure that water brings. It does not matter if it is in the sweet autumn rain of today or the tears shed alone or watching the sea, knowing its constancy, its perfect connection to the cosmos.
Oh, yes, that is the feeling, standing right here at my backdoor watching the garden soak in the elixir of life. Suddenly I too am swept into the rhythm of life. A gentle realization that everything, everything is connected. Lives are connected. The Althea blooms and the basil and sage and rosemary offer their aroma of memories, of gathering and infusing the foods loved most that comfort and revive us each time they are prepared.
At my garden door, a bit of grace to take with me through the rest of the day.
May healing waters find their way to you soon.