[Gardening – Meditation – Creating]
“Attention is the
beginning of devotion” (8)
-
Mary Oliver Upstream (2016)
25 May 2019--
_I was about to install the edging along the flowerbed at the back of the yard – where I planted those three small evergreens a couple of years ago – when the rain began to fall. I was so absorbed in what I had been doing for four-and-a-half hours, that I didn’t think – didn’t stop to think – of altering the course of the work when I noticed the darkening clouds come sailing overhead, bringing the day close-in around me. Humidity rose quickly. I began to sweat. Thunder boomed!
_I suppose I ‘expected’ the afternoon to simply be redressed in shadow and shade; yet remaining chilly to boot! A failure of attention? And then the rain started falling, hard_ and all I could do was carry everything back to the garage as quick as I could manage and call it ‘a day.’
Gardening
Gardening is a creative act.
It takes a small earthen space and alters it with positive intention; to
grow food, increase the aesthetic delight of that bit of Nature—and in doing so
it becomes a nexus in which human endeavor engages with Nature’s
processes. To garden well is to know
oneself as an extension of the natural world with which one is engaging. It is a matter of interacting with Nature as
well as with ourselves. It can be
reflective as well as intentional. If it
becomes a merely self-interested or selfish endeavor, however; having no regard
for the Earth and our place in it – it can alienate us from Nature and
ourselves. To garden is to participate
in the ongoing evolution of our relationship to all living things via the focus
we have on a small plot of ground.
Gardening is an ancient human practice; being one of the first
moves our species made beyond hunting & gathering as our primary mode of
subsistence. It amazes me, when I am
down on my knees with my hands in the dirt; weeding, transplanting, planting
seeds or bulbs and so on—that I am participating in this mode that is now more
than ten thousand years old!
Gardening can center you; as you focus on it, you let-go of
other obligations and desires. I often become
more or less freed of distractions as I engage in that series of tasks that I believe
to be necessary for finishing ‘the work’ of the day and the ‘ongoing project’ as
I conceive of it. You set the tasks you
consider important or necessary in order. You get your work clothes on and then_ you begin. The tasks you expect to do may get done – or not
– in the order you have established, or at all.
“Oh, I have to do this, now,
silly, before I do that and that!” _I sometimes have to say to myself.
The logic of gardening follows its own necessity, and while
you may not always see it, consciously, it is there. The more experienced you are at gardening,
the less ‘intentional’ you may need to be.
Though you set yourself out upon a ‘path’ to some desired ‘end,’ the
logic of the tasks will dictate their own unfolding. Even if you have started out with a ‘plan,’ you
may eventually let-go and find yourself immersed in a ‘flow’ of action and
reflection, moving from one task to another almost organically, without conscious
choice-making. You ‘know’ what needs
done, and you do it. This is the
mystical element in gardening; there is a mysterious verve to it—and at times gardening
becomes active meditation.
The mental, emotional and physical pathways in which you move
as you garden are necessarily pathways of
attention. Without attention,
gardening – like almost any other task in life—can become a mess; a jumble of
mixed-up intentions and vaguely perceived goals. In some sense, attention even takes priority
over planning. You do have to ‘know’ – at some level (rational, intuitive,
emotional) – what needs done and what you need to do, as well as what you would
like to do. Being attentive to the process
in which you are engaged brings it more fully to fruition; with less confusion
and “Ooops, I forgot to …” moments.
Attention to the garden itself is a good starting-point for setting up
the tasks you need to do and what takes priority over what.
“I would like to rearrange that bed for better
aesthetic effect, but these beds really need weeded.” _And so, you know what needs done – though
you are always free to choose. A plan is
a good thing, but once you enter into the pathways of gardening, where you end
up is best left surrendered to the logic of the process; to the pathways in
which you attend to the garden. This does not often conform to a list simply predetermined
by me. It can be a an almost contemplative
movement in which you lose yourself in the process. Gardening is a state of openness in which we
are free to engage with what is all around us; in our immediate vicinity in the
garden as well as at a distance (the latter speculatively, reflectively,
imaginatively).
Gardening unfolds as does any other such pathway. You follow on from one task or set of tasks
to another, and through the course of the day, sojourning toward goals, you allow
your attention to be focused upon this and then that and then what logically follows.
Having done so, you have ‘walked a
path;’ by analogy with walking a woodland path—you have gone pathing, the process
of attention following the triad: Opening – Clearing – Presence.
To pay attention we need to be awake; not ‘asleep at the
wheel’ of our lives. To waken we may engage
in various practices; e.g., meditation, listening to music at the beginning of
the day—in many ways finding our path to wakefulness as we prepare to embark
upon work and/or play. Once awake, we
can Open to the world around us. Opening
the portals of the senses can open the mind.
Opening the mind to new images, ideas, aspirations – can open the
portals of the senses; i.e., becoming aware of ‘where’ you are—spatially,
temporally, existentially, spiritually. Awakening – Opening – Awareness. Such a difficult triad to maintain in the flux
and flow of our ordinary life! Once we
get to some semblance of this triad, however, we are ready for Clearing.
Clearing is a matter of coming to a point where we can focus
our attention. We cannot engage with
everything around us; our day requires that certain things need done and others
can wait_ or are even superfluous. There
should be time for play as well as work; for relaxation as well as fulfilling
obligations and doing what must be done.
We choose what to do. Centering
in meditation as we come through Awakening to Opening to Awareness gives us the
insight to discern the best possible Pathways
of Attention. We lend our
attention to what we chose to do or what needs done. We learn to discern – through our being attentive
in a state of awareness – that with which we choose to engage; and this ‘clears
the boards’[1]
of our immediate field of awareness and brings us to focus.
If our day does not call only for things that must be
done, we are free to choose pathways of playful engagement, otium sanctum[2]
as a devout enjoyment of the day. Such
pathways of attention attract, challenge, or intrigue us in a different way
from those that are necessary—they lead us to focus on that which more directly
enhances wakefulness, deepens wellbeing, and ultimately facilitates self-transformation.
Once engaged in a pathway of attention, a sense of Presence
may envelop us in what we are doing. I
do not mean by this any kind of ‘supernatural’ effect. It is a naturalistic experience; one made
possible by the way we are neurologically ‘wired’ by our evolutionary
history. ‘Presence’ emerges from a kind
of ‘one-ing’ with what we are doing. It happens
because we are in the moment, awake and as attentive as we
can mortally be to the task. When this
happens, a sense of satisfaction with the moment arises; you are in
it. “I am here and I am doing this, and
I am ‘shining.’” The moment seems
radiant. I often experience this while
gardening and in other activities where I have ‘let go’ of willful intention. Consciousness and the task in which I am engaged
seem of a piece; woven into the same fabric of experience. A peace or refreshing exhilaration may accompany
the experience. In a mystic’s
vocabulary, you may find yourself ‘doing it without doing it;’[3] _This is contemplative language. It can be a restorative and invigorating
experience. What I mean by “Presence’ is
related to the psychological idea of ‘flow’[4]
and the mild sense of self-transcendence that often attends it when we are
genuinely ‘in the moment’ and thus unfettered by the usual run of ‘what ifs,’
‘doubts’ and distractions that are the ‘roof noise’ below which we usually
‘swim’ and ‘tread water.’
Collecting myself in from working in the flowerbeds around the house, I allowed that the rain which overtook my gardening could become a call to even deeper centering.
_Putting in the edging
will wait for another day!
Meditation[5]
“Meditation is a half-way house between thinking and contemplating."
- Evelyn Underhill Practical Mysticism (1915)
I lit candles on my meditation table upon coming inside and then changed out of my rain-soaked clothes. I sat down in front of the table and slowly began to center, breathing rhythmically, my eyes adjusting to the darkened room and the colorful flicker of the candlelight through the votive glasses. The beauty of the small electric lights suspended around the table – yellow & green for this earthen season – began sparking my imagination toward symbolic touchstones, drawing me into the pathways of meditation.
Meditation is kind of Internal Gardening. Though outdoor gardening can be thought of as
a meditative activity, it is still ‘active.’
The turn to meditation is a movement toward a state existential Quiet; characterized
by stillness, rest, and freedom from labor (for a time). Meditation begins with what has been called ‘Centering’
or ‘Letting Go.’ It is initiated
and facilitated by a regular, intentional breathing that aims to balance and
bring harmony to your soul-house as a whole; mind and body, emotions,
intuitions and will. Breathing Opens you
to the process of Detachment, which is a kind of Clearing. Once you
have cleared away as many distractions as possible at any given moment you are
ready to sit in the Quiet and experience whatever refreshment is possible. After a time, you may be moved to engage with
some object, idea, thought or image.
This third stage of the meditative triad is sometimes called Attachment. In this stage you ‘meditate on’ something;
you lend it your attention and ‘commune’ with it for a few minutes; for as long
as you are able, without forcing yourself to continue. Meditation is thus a Pathway of Attention.
Breathing
– Detachment – Attachment
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I could hear the rain falling and cars going down the street outside, splashing in the quickly accumulating run-off that was rushing to the nearest storm drains! I opened my senses in attentive gifting to the icons on my table: a symbolic Wheel of the Year, a Celtic icon of the four ‘primary directions,’ a salt cellar, a censor, and a model of a well; which I call the “Well of the Self.” I addressed the statue of a dragon I’ve had on the table since Yule and laughed—playfulness facilitating letting-go! The cellar chambers seemed ‘refreshed.’
This experience of refreshment is also a result of my
gardening outside for several hours. Our
ordinary experiences can become stale when we travel in the same pathways in
the same way too many times, for too long.
Refreshment often results from changing our routines or in going deeper
into a pathway of attention; breaking the stalemate of our ordinary waking
experience. The ordinary can become
mundane through lack of refreshment.
Being outside in the briskness of the day, planting and transplanting,
weeding and adding soil to flowerbeds – and then being overtaken by a storm! – had
the effect of breaking up an accumulated ‘staleness’ that I did not even
realize I’d fallen into! So, when I came
in from outside, the cellar chambers where I meditate daily and engage in creative
activities had been renewed to my experience.
My attention began to
focus on the Well of the Self, and I anticipated going down it to my Internal
nemeton, In preparation for the descent
– which can also be thought of as an ascent[6]
-- I began to chant a triadic lectio, which facilitated my sense of
being gathered-in to an ever more centered state.
I have long found that chanting facilitates centering and
letting go, as well returning my attention from various distractions to a focus
for the meditative process. I have used
the triad “Breath – Fire – Logos” – gleaned from the fragments of
Heraclitus – for many years. “Breath” for attention to my breathing; “Fire” for attention to the fact of the
energy being released in my soul-house by the slightly increased level of oxygen
resulting from my breathing, and “Logos”
for attention to the ordering of thoughts and the coming-together of an
harmonious self-consciousness as I enter into the ‘sacred’ imaginative space into
which the practice of meditating draws me.
Chanting fecund words that have a spiritual meaning for me helps clear
the boards of consciousness, allowing me to begin focusing on the various
directions that may be taken in the meditative journey.[7]
I sensed the sweat on my skin cooling as I sat in the circle, my natural breathing quieting as my metabolism slowed down after several hours of gardening outside, and then – all of a sudden – I was stilled!
Sometimes you reach ‘just that state of physical exertion’ in
your work where the body is delivered of angst, persistent anxiety and stress;
and then_ you are ready for the Surrender!
This time, not to external, but to Internal Gardening. Chanting becomes a path of Clearing, until
roaming attention gives way to a quiet focus on the process into which you are
entering; willingly—seemingly an effortless turn. In the old monastic idiom, my labora
(labor) freed me for ora (i.e., meditation, prayer, contemplation).[8]
At some point, focused on the Well-of-the-Self[9] in the middle of the table and, following its symbolic logic, I went down. _To the Cave of the Heart. I practiced the runes of detachment; it seemed easy today, though it is often anything but! At last, I rested in the Quiet; in a Deep Solitude; I was Alone. I turned the palms of my hands up on my knees and sat, freed of the day’s demands for a time. Breathing in; breathing out. Being-there.
Once you reach that still-point; once you have gone down what
can be called the Well-of-the-Self to the Internal Nemeton[10]—and
found yourself Stilled in the Quiet, you are even then on a pathway of
attention, though it may seem that you have stopped ‘going’ anywhere. I suspect that at this Inner Place of Rest,
the intuitions and the subconscious are still active ‘below the surface,’ though
you are not aware of what is ‘going on,’ except when inspirations, intuitions and
sudden ‘insights’ occasionally surface. Upon these you may choose to ‘meditate.’
If you do, you have shifted
from Detachment into Attachment.
An active gardening of images, ideas, and reflections that works the
‘soils’ of the self may unfold. Such
Internal Gardening orders our soul-house; (re)arranging touchstones and
taproots, facilitating depth-soundings. Attachment
can lead you into an experience of Presence.
Your attention-to an object of focus – a text, an idea, an image, an icon
or perhaps an insight or inspiration – can open you to such a deep communion in
the moment that it ‘shines.’
While engaged in Internal Gardening,
you may create imagined scenes of places to which you are drawn or at which you
are inspired to imaginatively sojourn. You may enjoy focusing on them – or
aspects of them – while practicing Attachment.
I have had a series of such ‘places,’ the oldest one of which I have any
record is my “Garden of Meditation” from the mid- to late-80’s, which was an incredibly
detailed ‘landscape.’ Literally an
imagined Internal Garden, replete with paths, flower and herb beds and
enclosing walls of trees and vines; I would walk within this Garden and have
imagined experiences that facilitated insight and inspiration.
Today I ‘dwell’ in an internal landscape focused on a location
I call “The Crannog Oratory.” Imagined
places like this can become elaborate and involved or remain simple in conception. They often arise from need and there can be a
sense that they are ‘given’ to us. Constructing
and maintaining them imaginatively is a creative endeavor. So long as they enhance the meditative
experience, and do not become a distraction, they can be a positive spiritual
tool. The Garden of Meditation was where
I ‘gardened’ my spiritual life when in my 20’s and early 30’s; paying attention
to the naturalistic as well as the Christian monastic and Celtic mystical touchstones
and taproots of my emotional, intellectual and intuitive life. Thirty years later, a simple Crannog is all I
need in order to sojourn imaginatively, dwelling in the depths of the self.[11] I have lost much of the baggage I used to
carry around with me, and so the Internal Landscape is simplified. While there, my creativity – which often
arises out of deep pathways of meditation – gets stirred, leading to active
creating; another form of external ‘gardening.’
Eventually, after a few countless minutes, I let-go and found myself in-Attention-with the Nothingness of the UnAlone. There was nothing to which to attend; there was only attentiveness itself.
A time may come in meditation when you waken at the
still-point, where all attention is gathered and a solemn quietude ‘sums it all
up.’ Contemplation happens. Contemplation is a not-ing with what-is and
a total suspension of the self in a state that has been described variously by
contemplatives as a ‘gift of bliss’ or a ‘freeing of self’ into a sense of
‘eternity’ or perhaps a state of such deep self-transcendence that there is no
‘sensing’ of time or even a ‘self’ to do the sensing. _There are too many descriptions of the
contemplative state to even begin to explore them here!
I spent some time in the Crannog Oratory, beyond awareness of my ‘self’ and my environs, entirely suspended in a state of un-thought being-there until_ a fire was lit in my mind, ideas began coming to me, and I new that I was now going to move out of the Internal Nemeton and take up the Muse’s calling.
Creating
“The adventure of voice into silence and silence into voice: this is the privilege and burden of the poet.” (79)
-
John O’Donohue
Beauty: The Invisible Embrace (2004)
Creating, for me, often finds is impetus in the meditative
state; dwelling quietly in either the state of Detachment or during Attachment. Sure, inspiration can and has hit me at other
times; I have written whole poems and blogs on the spur of the moment
while in the throes of inspiration during a day at work or out running errands. But it does seem to often get lit-up when I’ve
been travelling in meditative Pathways of
Attention; gardening, hiking, dancing, singing, meditating and so on.
Creating is simply ‘bringing forth.’ It doesn’t depend upon medium or genre. Creating is a human characteristic; it is typical
of our species and is something we are each capable of, given our evolutionary
inheritance. While it can be crippled by
abuse or disease or else debilitated or repressed by dehumanizing alienations
brought on by prejudice, poverty or other failures of universal nurture and
compassion, I have come to think that to be human is to be a creator/creatrix. We are Homo creativus.
This does not mean that everyone is a Picasso, a Bach or an
Emily Dickenson. It means that we are –
when not alienated from ourselves – capable of creating. A cook, a plumber, a mechanic, or a software
programmer is just as much a creator as a musician, sculptor, novelist,
filmmaker or actor, etc. One creator may
be more devoted to their creating than another; they may have disciplined and
practiced creating more than someone else, and some are more naturally gifted
at what they do – be it rebuilding classic cars or writing symphonies, et al,
ad infinitum – than others, but this does not invalidate the basic fact that we
are all creators. _Nor does it make one
creator a ‘better person’ than another!
We are all equal in Nature’s grace.
Creating is a pathway of
attention. It is like ‘gardening’
in that there is a stage of awakening to what one wants to create, a stage of
preparation and then a stage of active creating. It is a gardening of one’s inspirations and
intuitions, a shepherding of one’s existential resources and then a pathing of destinations
leading to where a ‘work’ comes to fruition.
No matter the medium – thought, clay, sound, marble, oil on canvas, film,
intellectual theories, a cook’s new recipe, and so on – it is a pathway that
requires a meditative focus and attention. To create requires an attention infused with Imagination’s
Devotion, as well as a Will of Fire to focus on what one ‘discovers,’ ‘finds’
or ‘is shown’ to create.
_And then, in the fertile soil of its offerings, I – as a
worker in words and images – Garden the Inner Landscape; loosening the rough
soil around the roots of the words, shoring up the stalks with supportive soil,
and then watering the words, images, sounds, thoughts or stories that come from
the Deep Down Below.
Creating as a kind of gardening can be a liberating of
previously undiscovered possibilities or even a discovery of touchstones for
self-renewal. Who knows, when you plant
a seed, what will finally come up? Each
according to its its ‘specie’ – yes! _But
usually not just what you had expected.
All through the course of one’s devout earthen life, seeds get planted
in the subconscious; in the Dark but lustrous Garden where the soul-house has
its foundations—and these seeds come to fruition in one’s meditative gardening;
giving rise to active creating.
I often go gardening in creativity’s solitude. Inspiration can follow on from reaching the
shores of attention. Epiphanies will occasionally
decorate the path of a mortal creator open to Earth & Cosmos in deep
attention.
After a time in the Deep Quiet, I was moved to get up off the floor. I came over to my desk, turned on the laptop, and have been sitting here for the last two hours composing this blog. The Muse only knows if what I am writing is anywhere near ready to post,[13] but this has been one of those rare days; a day when everything seemed to have been flowing freely into its best course, leading to the creation of a work that may or may not stand. I am humbled and grateful!
But now it’s time to get supper ready. _I have guests coming! May I remain in the flow. So mote it be!
- Montague
[1] A
term from my time involved with theatre; it means to get everything off the
stage but what is necessary for the upcoming scene, whether in practice or
performance.
[2] Otium
sanctum – “Holy Leisure.” Another
term from western monasticism.
[3] Pardon
the cliché; but it does seem to describe what I sometimes experience.
[4] Flow
– an originating study on this concept is Csikszentmihalyi, M. Flow: The
psychology of optimal experience. (New York: Harper and Row, 1990). Another interesting study is Rhonda
Berrnard’s “Music Making, Transcendence, Flow, and Music Education.” International Journal of Education &
the Arts, 10(14) 2009.
[5]
For more on the naturalistic practice of meditation, see my early blogs “What
is Meditation?” (1 August 2011), “Meditation on the Elements” (12 July 2011)
and “Naturalistic Meditations” (25 August 2011).
[6] I
do not mean to be talking nonsense here.
The metaphors we use for transcendent states can refer to “depth” or
“height;” going down or going up. The
descent into the Internal nemeton; the Cave of the Heart—can also be metaphored
as the ascent of the Mountain Dis or Glastonbury Tor, etc. (in Celtic
mysticism) or the ascent of Mount Carmel (ala John of the Cross) in Christian
monastic mysticism. Thus, the descent
can also be thought of as an ascent; depending on the metaphors your are using
to describe your experience.
[7] While
it is sometimes good to ‘wander’ in meditative solitude; journeying in
imaginative sojourns—you must do so with a devout attention.
[8] Ora
et labora – is an ancient monastic rune.
It means “Prayer and Labor” and represents the monastic ideal for
life-together and in solitude.
[9]
Well-of-the-Self – a symbol I’ve long used of the ‘movement’ in meditation from
the rational, conscious self as represented by the well itself and the ‘darkening’
passage ‘down the well’ into the ‘Internal Nemeton’ where you are safe, and
where the ‘soul’ can be ‘moistened’ and renewed.
[10] One
name for the place of stillness. It can
be called simply “The Heart” – though though this can be confused with the
“seat of emotions” in western culture, so I have called it by a variety of
different names in my blogs, poems and books, including the “Cave of the Heart,”
the “Dolmen of the Spirit,” or “The Cromlech of Meath.”
[11] I
narrated an imaginative journey to this Crannog in a blog from December 2015,
called “The Winter Nemeton” which also discusses the Crannog as an Internal
Nemeton.
[12] Δαιμον (die-mon; not ‘demon’) – the ‘inner voice;’ perhaps for Socrates the
voice of conscience but, for me, a reference to that inner source of Inspiration
that leads to creativity and active creating.
The spark of imaginative creativity.
I often personify it as “The Muse.”
[13] The original
draft I wrote on 25 May must not have been good enough, because I accidentally
deleted it and could not retrieve it!!!
LOL! A failure of attention? This version is actually much better,
believe it or not. I’ve been working on
it for a month!
