There's a Kind of Hush
In the depths of January here on Cape Cod, gardens take on a different guise. Gone are the vibrant hues of blooming hydrangeas and the verdant greenery of our pine-oak forests. What remains when the earth lies still beneath a blanket of frost is a landscape stripped bare, seemingly devoid of life. Yet, if we look closer, we can uncover a profound metaphor hidden within the hush of the winter garden—one that speaks to the rest and rejuvenation we all crave.
The notion of rest can feel foreign, even counterintuitive, in a world that often glorifies constant productivity and perpetual motion. As the garden surrenders to the rhythm of the seasons, let’s learn to honor the natural rhythm of our life, allowing ourselves to pause and recharge amidst the hustle and bustle of daily living. Winter teaches us that periods of dormancy are not only necessary but essential for growth.
Think about it: beneath the frozen earth, roots lie dormant, conserving energy and preparing for the eventual resurgence of spring. Similarly, in our own lives, moments of stillness allow us the chance to replenish our energy and ponder our journey. It is during these times of repose that we have the opportunity to reflect, recalibrate, and reconnect with ourselves on a deeper level.
A winter garden invites us to cultivate this sense of mindfulness and presence. When we feel pulled in so many different directions, the stillness of winter offers a rare opportunity to simply be—to savor the beauty of the moment without the distraction of constant busyness. By immersing ourselves in the sights, sounds, and sensations of the winter garden, we can awaken to the inherent richness of the present moment, finding solace and serenity amidst the routines of hectic schedules.
So as you embrace the peacefulness of winter, remember the wisdom of the garden. Nurture your inner landscape, allowing space for renewal, reflection, and ultimately, the blossoming of your whole, true self. For in the stillness of winter, we find the seeds of our greatest potential, waiting patiently to be awakened.
Birthday Reflections
Turning forty-fifteen seems important, not least because I am now eligible for the seniors’ menu at IHOP. I am so very, very grateful for another trip around the sun and the generosity of friends reaching out to wish me a happy birthday. Thank you.
When I was in third grade, Mrs. Dickau was teaching us how to write letters and fill out cheques (?) and she mentioned that all of the pre-printed cheques would have to change from ____ , 19__ because of the 21st century approaching. This big idea stuck in my brain and I became fearful that I would not live past the changing of the century. Well, these past 23 years have been filled with lots of living and loving and this childhood memory makes me even more grateful for this birthday.
My wonderful husband woke up early yesterday and took the dog out first so I could stay in bed longer. When I came into the kitchen, I discovered a beautiful love letter from him. After cooking my favorite breakfast, he returned to the garden to finish building a rabbit-proof fence to protect the flowerbeds and I headed out to the first of two doctor appointments. What better gift to myself on my birthday than the gift of healthcare?
A former colleague, same age as me, passed away earlier this week after a complicated struggle. Each year on his birthday, he would ask all of us to consider buying a cup of coffee for a stranger and then write to him with the story of what happened next. How did the stranger respond? Did a new friendship emerge? How did this act of kindness make the world a better place?
While Joe and I are not perfect (we still get grumpy about imperfect situations), we consciously strive to be kind in our relationships. Driving across the U.S. this spring we continue to be amazed witnessing the helpfulness of strangers, from the mechanic who assisted us in El Paso to the night clerk at the small budget motel in West Virginia. One server offered to pack up a whole new meal when I asked for a to-go box for my leftovers. It all adds up!
However you choose to celebrate getting older, my hope is that practicing kindness gets reflected back to you. I am privileged to have so much love in my life and I appreciate all of the birthday messages sent my way.
What's In Your Garden?
My father was born on a small rural farm in 1926, the eldest of eight children. In 1938, his dad died, leaving 12-year-old Murray to help his mom manage the farm and raise his younger siblings. A few years later, his mom asked if he thought they could afford to house three more children, cousins in need. He responded, “Sure - we’ll just plant a bigger garden.”
My dad grew up during the Great Depression and he was always proud that he and his family never went hungry and always had a safe place to sleep. He was an optimist with a positive attitude, trusting that he could figure out a solution to almost any problem. He did not amass any financial fortunes but his life was lived in abundant love and he treasured his big vegetable gardens.
Practicing healthy, intentional living is a lot like gardening. In the 20th century, psychiatry and psychology practitioners studied how to heal trauma and mental illness. We now know so much about weeding out that which is toxic in our lives.
But if we don’t cultivate what we actually want in our gardens, we are left with just an empty plot of dirt once the weeds are all pulled out.
What do you want to plant in your garden? Optimism? Community? Gratitude? Mindfulness? Balance? What strengths do you have that will help you grow your garden?
Finding ways to intentionally focus on what gives your life meaning and fulfillment, will help you nurture yourself and your goals in your garden. How much time are you engaging with loved ones in positive ways? How is your life’s work supporting your sense of purpose in your community? From where are you deriving pleasure and enjoyment? What does your garden look like?