Meditative Gardens

secret-garden

This week I was discussing with Alexandra the idea that for me, spiritual work seems to run on the same lines as a physical workout: it’s something I have to do regularly, at least a couple or three times a week, or I start losing my progress.

I did less over the holiday, particularly while I spent a few days staying with family around Christmas, and the immediate result was that I remembered far fewer dreams and my meditations were vastly less successful when I did do them. Happily, though, recent experience seems to indicate that I can catch up fairly quickly – and when the exercises do work, amazing things can happen. Like the two gardens that I saw in meditations over the past week.

The first meditation was about All That Is. (Yeah, I’m not ambitious at all, am I?) By All That is I mean the way Jane Roberts’ channeled entity Seth refers to what we normally call God – except that “God” tends to be viewed as an anthropomorphic figure, which Seth does not. According to Seth, All That Is is exactly that – to borrow a phrase from scientist Freeman Dyson, infinite in all directions, in everything, and the creative source and power behind everything across all realities. That we human beings are created by All That Is, are part of it, and that it is within us.

So naturally, being me, I tried meditating on All That Is.

I did realize that this might be a little too ambitious, especially since in a way I’m still just starting out with all of this again. And really, how does one begin to do a meditation on infinity? So instead of trying to drive the meditation with a particular question or in a specific direction, I simply let my mind empty around the general concept of All That Is to see what would happen.

I got a result immediately: The image of a vast garden and forest. It was deep green but also filled with multiple colors scattered throughout by way of flowers and other foliage. It was sunny. It came with a feeling of peace. After a moment, there was a breeze that picked up a wave of tiny seeds that scattered them off into the distance.

The meaning was clear: The growth was from All That Is, the source of all life imaginable. The flowers and trees were the realities grown from this source. The vast space was infinity, and the seeds on the breeze the constant spreading of creation and creativity. The peace came from the awareness that from the spiritual side of things, all was as it should be.

Another sort of image of a garden came out of my most recent meditation, two nights ago.

Once again…being me…I was meditating on 2017. Another “What’s going to happen this year?” sort of meditation. At least this time I can say that with the previous 2017 meditation, which showed a sky full of storm clouds but broken by sunlight, I was bringing as much curiosity and seeking of guidance as worry. The only specification I made was that I was wondering more about the year for me personally than the world at large.

That night I was having trouble concentrating on anything for more than a few moments, and this was the only meditation I did that night that was successful. But it did indeed provide.

I saw another garden this time – smaller, but that shrunken size was, I realized later, less about size than perspective. It was another garden, this time all flowers, with a variety of colors from subtle and mute to dazzling. But right in the center was a dark spot that looked like rot or blight.

And strangely, absolutely no feelings accompanied the image. Neither good nor bad. Just the picture of the garden with its blight spot in the center. A little probing didn’t elicit any emotions or further awareness whatsoever.

So last night I turned to my pendulum and did a dream interpretation session with it. What it explained was that the garden was what I create and have the potential to create in 2017 (and really any year, I guess). The blighted spot wasn’t really as big as it looked, nor was it really at the center of the garden – but it looked bigger and central because I’d spent so much time focusing on it. That is, focusing on all the bad things going on in my life at the expense at seeing the wondrous color and creativity otherwise all around me. Initially when I saw the dark image I was worried that this might be a warning about letting it spread, but according to the pendulum, it will only spread if I actively spread it. That I am the gardener, and the one creating these “flowers”, so likewise the blight is much more my creation than something worming its way in from outside.

Both of those gardens provided plenty of seeds for something to remember: I am the gardener, and from a spiritual perspective I’m constantly working together with the plants, the soil, the air, and the sunlight. I know when bad or hard times hit I’m going to have trouble remembering that, and even more difficulty putting it into practice.  But I do still know it now, and here’s hoping that will make things easier during those times – or even shining a light on the way out of them.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s