Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Dealing With Grief Through Flower Gardening
I may
not have mentioned it but my lovely dad passed away at the turn of the year.
My
parents were abroad visiting my maternal grandmother when this happened. A few
months later my naani also passed away. It’s been a tough nine months. Bereavement
can be seen from many different angles and is a process which one can’t put a
time limit on. Recently following the tragic death of the husband of Ustadah Zaynab
Ansari, Imam Zaid wrote a timely piece about death which is well worth a read.
So too is this short piece by Imam Khalid Latif about losing someone close to
you.
In
this post I want to share specifically one approach which is helping me in
dealing with this grief. And that is flower gardening. Both my naani and dad loved flowers.
I
started gardening almost a decade ago to keep exercising my hands following the
episode of arthritis and also because I realised that if I wanted to produce
work on The Garden, it would help to spend time in it. This experiential
learning has taught me several lessons over the years. For I believe that the
signs are all around us – it is us who are unaware of them at times. As the
saying goes: “God is at home, it’s we who have gone out.”
Since
spring however, being in the garden has provided newer meaning. It has become a
peaceful channel to process my grief. Nature has embraced me and given me security
of mind. I have started to believe that there is a real symbiotic relationship
between man and nature. There is mutual benefit to be derived.
Working
with the earth has given me a sketchbook to illustrate my thoughts, anguish my
fears and examine my insecurities. The soil which took millions of years to
form is a testimony of time. It is a testimony of the miraculous Wisdom of God
Almighty. It tells me the story of yesterday and shares with me the memories I
hold deeply about my lovely dad and naani.
Unlike
many people, I haven’t spent time and energies growing food. I have been
growing flowers instead. I understand there must be great spiritual rewards in
growing your own food and then consuming it. It must feel joyous to eat knowing
the exact conditions under which the food was cultivated. However I don’t think
that is for me right now. I feel one must have a great deal of respect with
their environment in order to fully benefit from this association. It is not
easily achieved and we risk losing divine grace if we simply see the patch as
somewhere to grow food for our hungry bellies.
There
is something quite amazing about waking up one morning and seeing a new flower
open up which is not the same as seeing a carrot shoot up!
The
blooms which plants offer are a heavenly reflection. The flowers have a
mesmerising impact. Just look back at the Hydrangea post I did. What a sight! I
have been thinking of people who don’t like flowers – what kind of heaven are
they expecting? Bright hues offer us an insight into the Divine crafting of our
Lord. So many different sizes and shapes of petals – each one delicately
existing to provide pleasure and resources to us. Man is never as independent
as he thinks; our reliance on these species to provide us with visual pleasure
and reflection makes us very much dependent upon them. In the least we should
show our gratitude to God Almighty.
It is
often advised that children should be taught about death through plants. But I
think us grown ups can really benefit from this too. Taking a seed and waiting
for germination creates so many feelings: of anticipation, hope and excitement.
When the first seedling leaf shoots up, there is greater elation and delight.
And as one starts to pot on the babies into bigger pots with more nutrition, a
sense of responsibility is felt. Soon with enough sunlight and water the plant
becomes hardy and able to survive without much protection.
With
the passing of time and changing seasons the plant reaches it’s potential,
seeds and awaits it’s next phase in the great cycle of life. I thought it was
child’s play until I tried it for myself: this cycle interacts with grief and
produces something else. Perhaps it is called resilience, or submission, or
understanding, or just witnessing the Power of God?
It’s a
something which I can’t explain in one single emotion or word. But from it
leaps forth renewed energy, albeit momentary.
