chaos precedes clarity

Chaos precedes Clarity 

1. Or so I hope as I cast my eye across the mess which is our house right now. We are  in the middle of getting all the windows cleaned and the outside walls pressure-washed. I had no idea it was such a big job. The bloke - Kev - turned up, as promised, early this morning and stayed all day  but he still isn’t finished. 

The furniture and rugs are clumped  in the middle of the room, the verandah is all wet and messy, and Kev has left his ladders and things here.  And we are having a lot of trouble getting the stupid magnetic fly screens back on the windows. Magicscreens, huh! 

However, I have faith that very soon - say this time tomorrow - order will be restored. D says we just need to remove the blinds to get the screens back on. Just  remove the blinds! Thank God D is so handy. Already the big tri-fold doors and the high-up louvres are crystal clear, making everything beyond ( green paddocks, cows, horizon etc) look brighter. 

I’m trying to find a little piece of homespun wisdom, a metaphor among this domestic trivia. Like how its all a reminder - that often in life chaos and mess are necessary  before clarity and order can re-emerge.

2. Talking of works-in-progress, I went down to the Community Garden today (the aim is to get there every Wednesday morning) only to discover that all my plants were dead.  Shrivelled up by the punishing, 30 degree-plus  heat of the last two days.

But I do not despair! I chat with a woman, S,  at a neighbouring allotment. Her lush patch is well-established and well-loved, though it does not look like the more usual plot of lettuces, tomatoes, eggplants etc. It’s a leafy  green jungle  with Taro and cassava, pawpaw and pineapples (the prettiest pineapples I've ever seen) .

She says she wasn’t really too sure about the ‘instant garden’ approach at the working bee on Sunday. She herself prefers to do things more gently and slowly. And thinks that putting heaps of chicken manure down like that and planting straight into it is possibly not the best thing for the soil, too much nitrogen. I’m inclined to be persuaded by her, as we stand there in our old hats and gardening gloves, surveying my chicken pooh-smelling  plot with its sad and shrivelled plants and flies hovering over it. 

From her point of view there is more to gardening than just maximizing your crop of food. It is also about  our relationship with the earth; and this is something, like all relationships, that takes time to build. We talk about the magic of it all, the sacredness of the Earth, how  easy it is to forget .  S herself  uses Biodynamic methods & preparations only. She says they really nurture the earth. I am already thinking I might do the same. 

Seems everyone down at The Gardens has their own opinions about the ‘right’ way to grow things. Even on Sunday, there were mutterings from those who did not agree with the blitz-it chicken shit plus ti-tree mulch approach being pushed by the blue eyed German man who was the day’s prevailing ‘expert’ . It will burn the plants.  I heard murmured. And This soil needs lime to break it down. Too Yang. Etc.

I’m happy to hear what everyone says, happy to not be an expert. Zen mind, Beginners mind etc. I think - I hope - one of the good  things about this Community Garden is that it can accommodate all these people with their differing opinions and ideas. 

I put up the bamboo trellis (not the one in this pic)  as planned, for the now-dead snow peas and tomato plants. Perhaps when the intensity of the weather and the chook-pooh both subside, I will re-plant. In the meantime  I put in  some yarrow root  - given to me by my Biodynamic neighbour. Good for something but I’ve already forgotten what. 

Then I just sit there for a while, contemplating my relationship with this little square of the earth’s surface, enjoying the rare luxury of stillness. It  feels good not to rush. And good to have gotten started on the process.