Early in the morning there is only birdsong and wind to bother the ears, which is the sort of quiet that allows garden work to become somewhat of a meditative experience. It used to take me a while to reach such a state – I was accustomed to noise and music and the general buzz of life making its monotonous roar. Once I started meditating, I learned to embrace the silence and enjoy the stillness. These days I can go outside and instantly adopt a meditative posture – deeper breathing, deliberate mindfulness, and the calm and tranquil countenance that, once engaged, builds upon itself – peace fostering peace.
Thoughts of the coming summer surface occasionally, the way the pool always conjures warmer months to mind – and I briefly acknowledge them, then let them move on. Eventually, as the stands of Miscanthus are cleared and the hydrangea are carefully pruned, the intrusive thoughts come fewer and farther between each other.
The magic of meditation, arriving after years of practice.
