My poor pea plants…

Along with the vegetables in my garden, I believe I grew myself a green thumb this year. Berries, pears, summer squashes, several greens, eggplants, tomatoes, beans et al waved in the wind and smiled in the summer sun in my yard. All except the peas. That surprised me. For peas were always a safe bet and even I (the clueless gardener) had been able to grow them successfully for the past couple of years.

I looked at the withered, unhappy looking pea plants and felt as if I had let them down in some way. I wondered if I had forgotten to take care of them – but again they always do well on their own. Hmm… I wondered what had gone wrong…

And then I realized, I had hardly gone out and plucked the peas when they first starting producing. I wasn’t doing well healthwise and didn’t quite have the energy to go pick peas. And my family will hardly ever go and pick veggies on the own.

I compared it to the green beans that have been relentless and that I’ve been harvesting regularly. Hmm… Interesting comparison. Interesting thought. So it probably means that if we harvest regularly, the plant will produce more. Quite simple really. It has the encouragement and is appreciated and is stimulated and motivated to do what nature has designed for it to do. It has a very good reason to produce more and keep producing.

Nature is so elegantly exquisite in its simplicity.

And we are part of this nature. Just as the pea plant was discouraged to produce, to grow, to offer to the world, I wonder how often we do the same to ourselves. How many times have we failed to tap the talent out of ourselves, to squeeze some creativity out, to encourage the good, to give direction to our hopes, to believe in our genius… And I can’t help but wonder how often we may be alike to the pea plant.

Well, if there is any truth in this reasoning, it would mean that I had indeed let the pea plant down. I offered its withered leaves a mental apology. But by that token, I realized I should be apologizing to myself too. And I wondered how many times, and for how many things I would have to apologize. Okay, quick, tell me how to close this can of worms. I really don’t like worms!

Sigh… there was no turning back, no escaping the exquisite simplicity of nature. When drawn out, all things good have the potential to keep flowing out. And that is a beautiful thought. And just like nature, exquisitely elegant in its simplicity.