Lessons from the nursery

I’ve been doing some extra work for my neighbour who runs a native tree nursery. The season is changing into autumn and the have taken off so, in the cool of the early mornings I’ve been spending a couple of hours each day pulling weeds from rows and rows of saplings. Some people hate weeding but I find it quite meditative. I enjoy the company of plants and perceiving the rhythm of their lives.

Between the packed rows of pots there is little space for a foot or a knee so to reach the plants in the centre of a block can present quite a challenge. My study of body mechanics has set me in good stead - I find that I can reach further by allowing my arms to release from my lower back; I can counterbalance my weight on one leg without distorting the integrity of my central axis, or the integrity of the head-neck-back relationship as it’s referred to in AT terms. I avoid strain and injury because I’ve spent so much time fine-tuning my body sense that I notice and stop before damage is done. I feel like I’m doing yoga with plants.

There is also something deeply satisfying about looking back on the neat rows of trees which emerge miraculously from what was previously a riotous tangle of green. Something about the human mind loves to create order from chaos, it loves to recognise patterns.

Recognising patterns is something our brains do really well. There is satisfaction to be found in discovering and recognising your own patterns of reaction and how they influence your experience of being alive. It’s not always comfortable work - you may have to kneel in the metaphorical mud, feel precarious, vulnerable, your limbs may ache. But in the end you are rewarded with the satisfaction of having made sense of your life…well perhaps a small part of it.