The Constant Gardener
Lessons In Being Human; No.2
I remember a friend once sharing with me that in almost every human relationship, someone takes on the role of the flower, and the other by default assumes the role of the Gardner. I’ve never had a green thumb but somehow I feel I constantly find myself tending to a garden of flowers, some of which I didn’t even plant.
The connections we have with the people we hold dear in our lives are not relationships we take lightly. We’re serious, intense, militant, yet on occasion you might us unassuming and even experiencing moments of levity…Somehow within that counter intuitive dichotomy we manage to portray the semblance of a well-adjusted person, worthy of friendships and intimate relationships.
The best relationships however are the ones where nothing is asked of us, nothing is expected of us…you are enough just as you are, not your skills, your talents, your background, or the sum of your experiences; not the potential of what you could do or could become.
We dislike talking about ourselves, so we use metaphor. You know your worth, but don’t feel like you need to publicize it, or have others champion it for you.
The Gardner does not expect the flowers to tend to his/her needs, he or she simply hopes that the flowers blossom and bloom. But the Gardner get weary, and a single flower can’t see beyond it’s own petals at the field the Gardner tirelessly tends.
Being a Gardner is hard, it requires patience, empathy, curiosity, and interest. It requires a level of investment and attentiveness that most people don’t acquire until they themselves are much older and frail.
The ability to quiet your own inner voice and create space to be filled by the cacophony of thoughts, feelings, and emotions of others. To understand when they are wilting, when their roots are not deep enough to ground them, or when the things that nourish and sustain them are being drained by weeds that surround them.
Being a Gardner means knowing that the water you shower your flowers with is the same water that you might need in a draught; the sunlight you ensure adequately shines over your flower is the same sunshine you toil under the heat of. There is no part of yourself you give to your flowers that can’t easily be a burden on you, but the biggest burden you must shoulder is the weight of knowing that your flowers will never really know everything you do for them.
