As July Winds Down

It’s July 25, and already we see indications that the food gardens are reaching maturity. In August, they’ll reach old age and begin their steady decline. Production will slow and the once robust greenness of it all begins to yellow a bit and plants will work as hard as they can to go to seed.

They’ll get more gangly, and produce fewer blossoms from which the veggies emerge. Stems will begin browning. No matter how much love and care we apply, they’ll continue sending us signs of the universal nature of impermanence.

This is their life cycle, and in New England, it’s a short one. It’s been a great season so far, but I can smell change in the air. This morning I was on an elevator when someone said to me, “Football soon!”

And it’s true. In just over a month, the NFL season begins. It may stay hot through September, but the days are getting shorter, and plants know better than we do when it’s time to come, and when it’s time to go.

For now, I’m enjoying the windfall of veggies we’re pulling from the garden, but I’m keeping the transitory nature of it all in my mind’s eye. Sure, I want to cling to this abundance. But Buddhists know that clinging is at the heart of suffering. Knowing that all is ephemeral and accepting that fact with grace, and trusting in the rightful unfolding of all things in their time, eases the suffering of letting go.

We have about a month left to dance in the gardens before we must start giving them, piece by piece, back to the Earth. We all return to Mother Earth, so that we may be born again. Everything comes and goes: whatever arises will cease. Nothing remains without change. It’s all good.

Much love,

Barbie xo