Beyond the perimeters of this garden lies a world and a reality to which I have never felt a real sense of belonging. Even under the best of circumstances it does not seem to bring out the best in me.

Interacting with its demands is not unlike foraging a path through a confusing wilderness where vines wait to insnare and thorns pierce through even the sturdiest armor. Chaos is all to often the order of the day. Conflict and confusion and the mad cap dance of clashing egos is an ordinary occurrence. More often then not its ambiguity and ambivalence that characterize even our closest relationships.

But here in this floral sanctuary there is the every day sacred, the ordinary holy. Other than the mosquitos there is little that would create anything other than deep serenity. Of course as tempting as it may be, its also highly unpractical to think one could spend a life time in this place where harmonious beauty is the ruling sovereign. But it is a place to which I am only to happy to retreat after the challenging encounters of the everyday world.

I’m never sure as to whether or not I bring anything constructive to the circumstances when encounters occur. Perhaps I survived only in adding to the kettle of mayhem. But here in the garden the better half of who I am emerges like the sun from behind the clouds. I’m the best of who I am when I spend as many hours as possible in my garden.