Just finished watching the new film “Five Feet Apart” about teenagers with Cystic Fibrosis, and as one who has my own difficulties breathing, I can heartily recommend it!
Since I have been pretty healthy my whole life, I wonder why at around age sixty various systems have begun failing. I even feel sorry for myself when I cannot enjoy the higher elevations anymore. At present I wait to see the results of a recent lung biopsy. Why me? Why now?
But when I see a film like this, I can only feel super lucky to have been all the places I’ve been in my 64 years, had all of those great and not-so-great relationships, and done pretty much whatever I wanted to.
What can you say about two teenagers who fall deeply in love for the first time in their lives, and aren’t supposed to touch each other? This film is tastefully done, with great dialogue and music. It makes you think about life and death and why we are all here. See it. You won’t regret it!
More and more studies are coming out now, reinforcing the idea that time spent in nature is so good for us. Big surprise there! For centuries we spent all of our time living in and with nature. What could be more, well, natural? But I must say I did not have a full understanding of the importance of nature in my life until I moved away from towns and cities altogether. Most importantly I missed natural silence while living in cities. My entire soul longed to NOT hear cars and other people around me. This longing became more strong as I grew older, and finally Mike and I reached the age where we were no longer forced to live near others for jobs and financial reasons.
It seems now that I learn a new lesson everyday by living close to nature. First I realized I could finally begin living in the present. Meditation and mindfulness seem so natural here with so few distractions. And now, as I observe and contemplate the loss of many loved ones, I can’t help but think, “What could be more natural?” Of course that does not ease the pain of loss, but it does make it feel quite a bit less personal. And what could be more natural than grieving? We humans have been doing that since the beginning of our species.
Living close to nature requires our full attention, that is what I’ve learned as I begin displaying my photos at the local Space Gallery this July. Look away for a moment and you have missed the most incredible sunrise or sunset, changing second by second…
…or the arrival of a Road Runner right outside our glass door. There is so much to be missed!
That is why this quote speaks to me everyday. I wish the same for you!
“…we all know how this ends, so rushing through life is senseless. As our inner life grows ever more luminous, the chatter of the speed-and-greed world slowly fades, leaving us with greater peace, tranquility, quiet and contentment.” — Arthur Rosenfeld
The mornings are when I seek solace in my garden. No matter how difficult my sleep has been, or how disturbing the world seems, when I walk outside and hear the silence of nature, I find reassurance that we are all OK.
I have come to realize that this is a feeling most will never know, and one that you must fully experience to know in your heart. Recent and not so recent studies have shown that a prolonged and solid connection with nature soothes us and reduces our stress. I had small glimpses of this in my backyard in Fort Collins, but I could still hear road traffic in the distance. I could still feel the tension in those around me, the need for city vigilance.
Now I know, finally at the age of 64, the peace that only nature can offer. I hope you also experience this in your daily life.
My garden is amazing to me this year! After the very dry spring of 2018, with evacuations and then a terrible wildfire, the Spring Fire burned over 100,000 acres, this spring has been a dream. Plants that I had almost forgotten about came back in full force! Plants that got eaten back by deer or bunnies came roaring back with no deer in sight.
Then my brother John, the self-proclaimed “dirt guy,” made a trip up here in May to finish up…
After a number of other trips up here from Sedona in the past few years to help us plan out and finish our new garden facing the Spanish Peaks, I decided to name this garden for him. He put a lot of heart and soul into his work here and it shows!
I was raised by Dr. Jack L. Carter, a well-known botanist in this area, best know for his books “Trees and Shrubs of Colorado” and “Trees and Shrubs of New Mexico.” I never wanted to be a botanist. My interests ran more towards Asian history in college, after a few months living in Thailand at age 19. But as it turns out, my new garden at 7,000 feet, is where I now go to find meaning, happiness, comfort and solace.
I love everything about going out to visit my plants each morning. I want to see what’s blooming, what’s thinking about it, and which plant needs some help from me to be happier with their placement in the garden.
I have had gardens all over Boulder, Fort Collins and Loveland Colorado. From this I have learned that all gardens take time to develop and grow in their own way. Only start a garden if you have a few years to watch it develop of its own accord. You need to learn the native plants in your area and gain the awareness of which critters eat what. I spent a couple years walking around La Veta before I started my own garden. There you can quickly see what may survive constant deer nibbling, plus rabbits, etc. I have also incorporated a number of native plants from our surrounding acreage. Some just turn up in the garden and I let them stay. Others I have transplanted.
This spring we have a abundance of this plant along the county roads and just about everywhere, which is curious because I don’t remember seeing a lot of it before this year. After consultation with my favorite botanist friend Jan, we decided it is called Penstemon augustifolius.
From the very beginning I knew I wanted to bring some Penstemon strictus into my new garden, common name Rocky Mountain Penstemon. I had great experiences growing ihem in my Loveland garden a number of years ago.
My garden in Loveland was my primary solace in the spring of 2001 when my marriage fell apart. I started a garden because I love growing things around me and I knew even then that:
Action is the greatest antidote to despair.
Eighteen years later I will share with you an essential insight into how life works. When life seems meaningless, find some part of your life that you can transform. I have transformed ugly screened-in porches into beautiful sun rooms and empty lots into native plant gardens. Find a way to make something beautiful around you. Do it today!
The past few weeks since my brother John left, have been quite trying. First I got bronchitis, then our kitty Charlie died, and now Mike has bronchitis. When it rains, it pours! Then yesterday I took a bad fall onto concrete directly on my knee. These kinds of experiences leave me wondering “What’s next?” but in a bad way…
Neither Mike nor I had ever had to euthanize a pet before. We couldn’t believe what was happening at the time, but Charlie was suffering so much with no solution but death. And yes, Mike had to bury Charlie himself down below our home. It seems we have started our own pet graveyard.
The thought that stuck with me after watching our cat first get a shot to help him relax, and then one to help him let go of life, was exactly how close we all are to death at any moment of our life. It hit me with radical clarity how we spend our whole life misunderstanding and fearing that moment of death, and then it is over so quickly. The line is truly fine and gloriously final.
Then my mind continued to the thought: Most of our conceptions at the beginning of life were quite haphazard. How many of our deaths will be the same?
That is why I love spending time in my garden right now. The silence except for the bird calls, the morning chill, the bright flowers that pop up one morning and leave just as suddenly. This is the natural cycle of life and death on planet earth. This is what we signed up for when we were conceived. We come, we experience and we go.
“We’re all just walking each other home…” – Ram Das