LIFE RIGHT NOW â—½ YOU
Picking. Plucking. Pulling. Basically, puttering around the yard. Each and every morning.
That’s where you’ll find me. Tending to the flowers, herbs, and vegetables adorning our backyard suburban garden. Apparently, this is what retired people do. We “garden.” It’s a verb. And if I’m not outside begging seeds to grow (I’m looking at you, basil), I’m lounging on the couch Googling whether or not that green sprout I’ve been watering for weeks is the beginning of a beautifully forgotten seed planted last fall – or just a very well cared for weed. Please don’t be a weed. I even joined the neighborhood garden club to cultivate this new hobby of mine.
Most mornings the garden is where I’ll be. Digging. Watering. Thinking. It was on one of those ambling mornings, surrounded by fragrant reds, yellows, purples, and pinks, with knees settled in dirt and elbows buried in leafy vines, when my wandering thoughts turned plants into people and flowers into friends.
Decades ago, my teaching career began as a kindergarten teacher. The word kindergarten literally means a garden of children - blending the German words “kinder,” meaning children,” and “garten,” meaning garden. While I’m no longer surrounded by a garden of children, it’s easy to see how a garden really is like a medley of all the people we meet. Some are like annuals.
They last for a season and we truly enjoy them. But those relationships aren’t meant to carry on forever. Those are the people that eventually drift away. No reason. No big disagreement. Life and interests just took us on a different path and we still think of them fondly. Then there are the perennials. These are the friendships that flourish. Some might last only a few years, while others remain for decades. We may not talk for months, but always pick up right where we left off when we do. Effortlessly. Best of all are the ones that are supposed to be annuals, but for some unexpected reason, they just keep springing up every year (and we’re so happy they do!). These are the work friends from three jobs ago that still make time for coffee.
Of course, we also meet people that are like herbs. They can add a touch of flavor to our lives, some even bring beneficial qualities, but they don’t always mesh with others. They can be competitive. These are the people who are nice enough, but we never really click. Think of a casual acquaintance – we say “hi” in passing, but we’re not making lunch plans. Others are like the vegetables we grow – intended to provide nourishment. But it’s important to choose the right vegetables for your space. Choosing the wrong one means it won’t thrive. These people mean well, but different pursuits sometimes make it awkward. And then there’s the weeds. They’re sneaky. They might seem worthwhile at first. We think maaaybe they’ll become a new friend. But something’s off. They’re a tad too wild. We aren’t always sure of their intent and we need to proceed with caution. Weedy people don’t offer true friendship and if we’re not careful, keeping them around will give us a real mess to clean up!
So, if people are like plants and friends are like flowers, what type of flower are we? What kind of friends do we want to have and what kind of friend do we need to be?
Are we classic, like a tulip? A bright pop of happiness bursting in at the darkest times? How about the zinnia? She thrives in almost every environment. Or maybe we’re a low maintenance geranium, easy to care for and doesn’t require much attention. Would some say we’re most like a temperamental azalea. She’s so moody. Perhaps we strive to be like a marigold. She is dependable. She encourages, supports and protects. And rose? She’s so beautiful, but watch out, because she can be a backstabber with those thorns!
The world is filled with a garden of people. When we leave our quiet backyard gardens we’ll see herbs, vegetables, flowers, and weeds. God plants them all around us. Annuals and perennials. We need to pick the relationships worth harvesting and get to work.
Inviting. Sharing. Listening. Basically, cultivating friendships. Each and every day.