It is a cold winter’s day in Cape Town, late July. The dim sun illuminating the coastal hillsides and seashore is insufficient to warm the air. But never mind the reality of winters enthusiastic grip over the peninsula, spring is promised and with the expectation of a new garden. And that leads me to my question. What harvest are you preparing for?
Whether you tend a garden or not, you are the gardener of your own being, the seed of your destiny.”
- The Findhorn Community
Digging through the garage, I discover a rusty, square bladed spade and quickly drive it into the cold, wet sandy soil. With every turn, I want more. Inspiration and ambition soar. Soon, I can see Adriaan looking to see when and where I will stop. He will calmly and gently ask, “How much more are you going to dig?” I’ll reply, “Just a bit more. I have to have room for squash. Oh, and eggplant. We must have eggplant.” It grows bigger by the day as the fever sweeps me away.
Soon we are packing the boot of the car as full as we can with bags of luscious compost. The earthy fragrance fills the air further empowering the enthusiasm and expectation. As the bags are distributed across the newly turned soil, family noses wrinkle with the inhale of the powerful aroma. I, however, am in heaven. To me it is a promise of things to come; a promise of a harvest. Every new twist of the spade, blending the sandy soil with the rich life giving compost stirs the song in my heart.
The day finally arrives.
It is time to plant. Yes, winter is still in control but spring draws near enough that some crops will thrive. I carefully make my selections. Onions, radishes, cabbage, fennel, they begin to compose the symphony. But I can’t stop there. I have to add carrots, beets, kale and spinach. Some are seeds, others starter plants from the local garden center.
“Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.”
- Henry David Thoreau
Now the hard part; WAITING. Patience is a virtue not finely honed in my character. The first few days, I am content, pleased with the accomplishments of the past few weeks, expectant of the harvest months down the line. But soon, I want to see those sprouts bursting forth from that soil which had been prepared with such tender love and care. I want to see growth from the seedlings that have been so carefully planted. I want measurable progress, not just the expectation of a future harvest. I become impatient.
Every day, first thing in the morning, I will scan the garden.
What grew? Did anything sprout? Throughout the day I will return and perform the same act. I’ll even scratch the soil to see if something is lurking just beneath the surface. Days pass; nothing. My spring fever is now an itch.
Then it happens. One morning, bright and early, peering out of the bedroom window which overlooks the garden, I see a green sprout. YES! It is beginning. A new wave of excitement sweeps over me. The harvest was now one step closer. Now I can celebrate new life emerging from what appeared to be lifeless sand. Oh, how wonderful it is going to be to watch it grow!
Every morning, a bit more will appear slowly greening the brown, dingy earth from which it sprouted. I can spot them before anyone else can. In fact, I’ll make it a game. When the family arrives home from work each day, we will gather by the garden and see who can point out the newly emerged sprouts.
I share this vivid imagination with you today because the garden is a symbol of life for me.
I see in it a reflection of the process of our life journey. And today especially I sense that every day, every new dawn we have the opportunity and possibility of new beginnings; of new life. We have the excited expectation of a bountiful harvest. It is a promise, set before us from before we took our first breathe. The question is whether or not we will allow the process, embrace the potential and maintain the patience to see it through. By that, I mean that we must invest the time and not despise it to prepare the soil of our lives; to prep the garden of our bodies and minds so that the potential can take root and grow properly. That means digging, turning it over and adding manure before anything can be planted. Yes, it is a time of expectation and promise yet it is a time of discomfort, sour aromas and a bleak view. But then, when seeds are sown and patience is applied the roots of new life emerge from the hard, seemingly lifeless seeds of possibility. And with a bit more patience the sprouts emerge and begin their journey to maturity and the harvest we desire.
I am in the spring season of new possibilities in my life.
For the past 2 years I have been digging the soil, composting, digging some more and planting seeds. And now, as they will soon be in my veggie garden, those seeds are beginning to sprout. I can see the possibilities. No longer just expectation, they are now living, breathing, and growing. The promise has grown alongside them. The harvest is one step closer.
What about you? What harvest are you preparing for? Is it a harvest of health and wellness? Of strength and energy? Of weight loss and healing? It doesn’t much matter as the principles remain the same! Prepare wisely and you’ll reap a bountiful harvest. It’s simply the laws of nature.
Carl Mason- Liebenberg is a Wellness and Weight Loss Specialist, Author, Fitness Coach, and a Leader in Creating a Lifestyle of Wellness. His passion is for those who suffer from poor nutrition, related illnesses, addictions and overweight conditions; with a specific focus on women. Carl unveils the power of nutrition and fitness to bring recovery, healing, restoration and strength.
Carl has personally experienced what he teaches and continues to study and learn to improve his ability to teach you a Lifestyle of Wellness.
He has recently launched a series of e-products that you’ll want to be sure to obtain in your journey to authentic wellness. For more information and opportunities please join him at http://www.el3mentsofwellness.com .