The Garden

I have a vegetable garden. A very humble garden. A triangle on the side of the house that doesn't have the best sunlight.

God is there. God, of course has a history of walking in gardens. And the god that walks in gardens is not the ugly vengeful guy that is portrayed in the rest of old testament. I'm glad.

I saw the divine in a tomato seed. Dry, small, kind of misshapen. But there it was. This seed evolved from the moment of the first bang when the elements began their march into existence. This seed was made of star dust. Dust that took billions of years develop its present form. The astounding process of life evolution took billions more.

For all that time each of the ancestors of this unassuming little seed had managed to survive long enough to reproduce before being eaten or burned, or washed away or otherwise eliminated from the life journey. Considering that the vast majority of living creatures die long before they reproduce, this was a remarkable representative of God that I had in my hand.

And, this little seed was inexorably linked to the future. If the conditions are right, it will give birth dto a plant that will bear copious quantities of fruit each producing untold numbers of seeds, just like itself. And of those, perhaps one will survive to move life forward.

God is remarkably generous. And yet, we are always demanding more.

Why we have so little gratitude toward the sacredness of the earth that has given us everything - toward the generosity of the divine? Why are we so willing to slash, burn, pave over and destroy that which as been so graciously given? Why do we then stand as petulant two-year-olds and expect some anthropomorphic god to swoop down and fix things for us? Why do we have much difficulty expressing responsibility and gratitude?


Perhaps it is explained by a beautiful myth from the desert religious traditions. In this myth, humans exist connected to the sacred and the earth - not surprisingly referred to as a garden - the garden of Eden.

Inevitably these humans do what humans do - they become conscious, in an immature way. They move away from their natural roots, develop an ego which is more important to them than God, and begin dividing the world into good and evil. Even the divine is divided into angels and demons. Human egos reject what they have and always want more.
Of course all humans go through this process. Young children are delightful because they are still in the garden - in innocence. They still have a natural connection to what is. They still see the world as wonder. They are still connected to the divine. If we opened our eyes we could learn from them, but our egos don't usually allow that.

And then the children inevitably take a bite of from the fruit of that tree and find themselves doubting, and full of shame, and judging themselves and others and, wanting more from mother earth. Tkhey thin they will fill better if they just have more. More of what? Doesn't matter - they just need more. A better seat, more praise, more "favor" with the divine, more money, more "truth", more stuff than the next person, And in the pursuit of more they learn fear, and hatred, and cruelty. And they suffer and they cause others to suffer and they besmirch the earth, and the sacred.

Maturity, enlightenment, is the next step. When we finally stop seeing the earth as evil and god as a reflection or our own prejudices (pretty insulting to the divine if you think about it) we can open ourselves up to all. This is being reconnected to reality.

Many have reached that state of maturity. The Buddha, Muhammad, Gandhi, Jesus of Nazareth etc. Countless that have been lost to history have reached it. But, alas, most of us do not.

I did - for a moment. Staring at a tomatoes seed I saw beauty, wisdom and the staggering nature of ultimate reality. I felt honest humility, and gratitude - for a brief moment.