My garden has taught me so much, even when I resisted learning. You can’t argue with a garden! It takes at least two humans to have an argument; gardens aren’t so foolish. The biggest lesson I have learnt from my dear little garden is to work within my own limitations, to work with the shade. It has taken me 52 years to even begin to grasp this idea… for more than 15 years I planted sweet Mediterranean herbs that needed full sun in my shady patch because I was so determined to have fresh basil and oregano and marjoram. I was focused on an unrealistic outcome and didn’t see the reality of my situation. Not only did these plants not get enough light, the possums and insects also had a great time eating the leaves as soon as they were planted, year after year. They never grew past seedling stage…

It took me 15 years to accept that my garden was shadey. Why so long? Because i was focused on an outcome, not the process. There is nothing wrong with shade of course. It’s wonderful to sit in a comfortable chair on my shaded front porch with a cup of Earl Grey tea on a warm Summer’s day. And in Winter, the leaves from the big old tree fall and let the Winter sun through – sometimes we forget there is sun in Winter, but a clear Winter’s day is a beautiful thing. Like rain in Summer, it’s appreciated even more.

So at least I saw the shade for what it was – a reality and also a blessing. Limitations are perhaps like this too if we can find ways to work around them; they give rise to invention and ingenuity. I started to plant shade-friendly plants that liked the dappled light… now I have native Pandoreas growing up trellis on the fence and three lemon trees doing well, a peach tree, and the indigenous Cut Leaf Mint Bush is thriving along with the Balm of Gilead (both ten times their size now). Not only do these plants thrive in low light, also the possums have no interest in eating them, they seem to repel insects, and the sandy soil is also a plus as it drains well. In the right conditions, we thrive. In the right conditions for us as individuals, that is. What is good for you may not e good for me…

I work with the shady aspect now, I don’t try to make my garden into something it’s not. I have removed the weeds from my garden and my life, with all due respect. It is a shady, sheltered and walled space and is perfect just as it is. Working with the Earth opens you, opens your heart and mind to new learnings and ways of being. Growth takes time, it can be so low it is almost imperceptible but it is a steady thing – growth towards light. Learning, watching, listening to what is around you in the present moment is very calming and is the essence of mindfulness. Everything is a teaching.

If you really tune into plants they will tell you if they are happy or not – they will wilt when they need more water, they will yellow if they need less. When they grow strong and true they are letting you know the conditions are right for them and they are happy. And as I learnt this I stopped trying to fit myself into places I didnt really belong. I stopped smoking cigarettes, stopped the marijuana, stopped drinking alcohol and stopped going into loud places that were full of people. I let places – and people – go. I stepped more fully into being comfortable with just being myself and realising what conditions were right for me. Still a lifelong work in progress, like a garden… but thriving in the shade now. Know thy garden. Know thyself.

I enjoy peaceful spaces, perhaps with incense scenting the air and shakuhachi flute music playing softly. I like to sit in the rose garden at the Botanical gardens with a friend who explains to me the Buddhist concept of having an ‘open hand’, of letting go instead of grasping or attachment – that is what is valuable to me, learning in the clear light of day with roses blooming all around.

And the shade is not a negative thing; it may be a set of conditions you were born with this lifetime. It can be worked around, learnt from and eventually can be used in the correct way to thrive. Some plants actually grow better in the shade, like Common Mint (there is nothing ‘common’ about it, such a useful herb and lovely in a berry banana smoothie with almond milk.) Mint is also best in containers… some things, like an angry mind, need to be contained so they do not run riot and take over. Anger can be used in fruitful ways as a driving force to propel you forward, if harnessed correctly. Trim the mint back regularly, and cut back on people who do not honour your path.

What has taught me the most in my garden is my compost bin; a large plastic bin with a lid that stays on firm even in storms. Once the lid is lifted off, it smells and some bugs fly out and there are slugs… but what is going on in there is nothing less than alchemy. With the correct view or mindset we can transform what no longer serves us (‘waste’) into ‘black gold’, as compost is sometimes called. From discarded kitchen scraps comes rich earth over time, and the cycle of life continues. What I no loner want becomes rich life-giving soil, full of micro-organisms, to dig through the whole garden to replenish and nourish now that the magic of alchemy has taken place.

When the five elements are in balance; air, water, fire (light), earth and spirit (the spirit of place) – plants thrive and we are rewarded with fruit, flowers and herbs. Perhaps time is the sixth element? I have the first ever lemon on my lemon tree, starting to ripen. It took me 15 years to learn that lemon trees are happy in part shade… as I am. As I am.

Blessed be.