Antonio Machado's anguished poem strikes deep in my heart. His withered garden haunts me; warns me. Please be mindful of the wisdom of the Wheel of the Year, and how it energetically supports us. Remember, we're still in the season of Imbolc. What we plant now, and then water with our love, energy, time, and dedication throughout Spring and Summer, is what we'll ultimately begin to harvest at Lughnasadh next February. Such potential bounty! And that harvest will become part of the rich, loamy soil that we then plant future seeds in, the following Imbolc, ensuring an even greater harvest the year after ... and so on throughout our life.
Without wanting to sound like Debbie Downer, though, if we fail to cross this threshold with great awareness and intention, we may find ourselves confronted with the stark pain and despair of a barren garden come February ... and at the end of our journeys. Rather than rich, loamy soil, we're left with mere dust that cannot support life. We failed to plant well; to care for the soil; to tend our life's Garden. This is what Antonio Machado's poem warns us of.
What is it that you truly want to experience in life? Who do you want to become?? Can you be intentional and strategic about reaching for those experiences? Will your life's harvest be bountiful?? Or will you rest in your rocking chair in your twilight years, wistfully speaking of all the things you'd wanted to do ... but never did; all the places you'd wanted to travel to ... but never did; and all of the experiences you'd longed to have ... but never did.
This is still Imbolc. The cycle of another year is still in its early stages. Plant with care, and with great intention. Consider what your precious seeds will need from you in order to flourish and thrive. Consider how you can become a Good Gardener. And so it is.
Peace
Juliette xo
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