The inner garden

This morning I joined Paul Barker’s Meetup Group for a Men’s Heart walk; my third walk with this particular group aiming to empower men to reconnect with and redefine their masculinity through nature. Sadly this morning it was only myself and Paul who were there for the walk. But Paul seemed set on not allowing his vision to dissipate and we continued on the walk.


The mist created a thick layer over the beach and we could only see a few metres in front of us. The famous Table Mountain was visible against the skyline. The temperature was surprisingly pleasant. We started off by reading a poem: ‘Easter morning in Wales‘ by David Whyte. The poem speaks about our inner garden that is so often neglected rather than nurtured.

The beach itself was very busy. It seemed like a school community had come down to walk on the beach. We were not much perturbed by them since the beach has much space to offer everybody. I took my sandals off to wade in the shallow water. The water was cold in its embrace of my feet.

I was pondering my own inner garden; something that has existed for me for ten years. As a Rosicrucian I visit and nurture this inner garden of the mind often. In the poem the garden contains a tomb but my garden has a wonderful crystal cave… a sanctuary protected from the strife of life.

I thought about how there are parts in my garden that are neglected and that I need to take a wider stroll in that inner image to discover the neglected parts. Those deeper parts of me, I hide away, for they are unappreciated by others. Often the neglect is due to concern for others so that parts of myself are sacrificed for the greater common good. Maybe it is just because I have not found out how to integrate that part of me into my world of being. Everything we have has purpose and eventually every part of us has a role to play in living our destiny. I thought about how this inner garden is a mirror of the external world and how the two relate to each other.

On my route I picked up two small pebbles, one white and one black. A beautiful yin-yang depiction of the inner-outer duality of life.

We stopped after walking for an hour in silence and had a lovely conversation. We walked back chatting further and had a cup of coffee at a restaurant before saying our goodbyes.

I left the beach mindful of my inner garden and its need to be continually nurtured but also reminded that it is a place for my enjoyment and inner well-being.

(To read the poem see: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1130461853646483&substory_index=0&id=213407562018588)

 

 

Words with Tea at the Rose Garden

I attended a Meetup group today called “Reconnect within” and the theme of this particular meeting was: “Words with Tea at the Rose Garden” This is what I wrote:

My first 10 minutes of writing:

“This is a time, stolen from a busy schedule. Reserved for myself and myself only. I do not know what this moment of reflection will bring. The journey within does not require any transport or technique. It just need a moment of silence – an awareness of being. That is all. It does not need any form of fuel to propel it along, but it does need concentration. Becoming lost for the world by going into the inner world. Detached from circumstances, emotions just to become aware.

Waiting for the inner light to switch on and allowing the darkness to flee the light. Within we carry our fears, hopes and dreams. Hidden often from sight. Reconnecting is to connect with our inner being through virtue. Virtue is the glue with an elastic bind that keeps being together within a sense of harmony. I am in this time of focusing on virtue so connecting for me is to discover what virtue is already within me. I need to think and allow my memories to float on the sea of past events captured on the screen of my mind. To see a reflection of who I truly am for virtue ask for inner connection and most of all sincerity.”

My second ten minutes of writing:

“The rose – seed of my soul! What a marvelous expression of inner being. The rose starts as a white rose, pure, innocent and without blemish. It comes from an area close to a lake with crystal water. Sparkling colours dancing on the white surface of its petals. There is a smell of vanilla around it; fresh and clean.

There are many white roses. One rose, nurtured by the crystal lake, opens up and its roots penetrates deep into the warm soil, drawing energy from the sun’s rays. Turning red. Oh! how beautiful is its fragrance – sharp like a chilli’s taste in one’s mouth. Capturing the conscious mind and tempting it into awe. The other white roses looked with jealousy at the red rose. “Why must that rose be so different” Horrendous! Until the gardener comes along and cut the rose from its stem. Oblivious to the gentleness of the gardener’s precious touch the other white roses rejoiced. “It serves that rose right for daring to be different”

The rose indeed felt the pain in an instant as it is ripped from the source of its nurturing. No longer connected to the earth but an identity of self.

Gently the rose is placed in a vase and a transformation begins. With water of gold surging up its veins the rose opened up completely to show its golden splendor. Perfection marks each leaf and harmony the arrangement of leafs. Admired the rose stands for a long time but then the tide of time turns. The leafs begins to whither away, gold turns into black dryness. But the rose has neither sorrow nor regret. It remembers the time in a vase when it was admired and loved – fed by the pride of the gardener. In silence the rose contemplate the meaning of its past existence as the last of life flows gently away. “

Putting it all together into the final writing:

“The rose starts as a white rose, pure, innocent and without blemish.
WHITE ROSE: beginning, purity, innocence
One rose, nurtured by the crystal lake, opens up and its roots penetrates deep into the warm soil, drawing energy from the sun’s rays.
RED ROSE: Trial, tribulation and tests
The rose indeed felt the pain in an instant as it is ripped from the source of its nurturing.
GOLDEN ROSE: Growth, transformation, perfection
With water of gold surging up its veins the rose openéd up completely to show its golden splendor.
BLACK ROSE: silence, contemplation, reflection
But the rose has neither sorrow nor regret. It remembers the time in a vase when it was admired and loved – fed by the pride of the gardener.”