My meditation garden

When I was living with Ross and his Father, they had rescued me from homelessness.

It was late Spring when I was reunited with my son.

He was in Grade 5 at Primary School.

Elated!

Time to rejoice!

Yet when I arrived, I was suffering from a severe and extended period of Bipolar 1 Depression.

I would hold Ross tight and tell him with a raw and mournful heart, “I have loved you forever and always will.”

I apologised for the trauma I had caused him.

At first I was immoveable.

Largely unresponsive; my face a mask.

Now reunited with my mental health team.

My Psychologist and Psychiatrist have both cared for me since 2008.

I began intensive outpatient treatment.

At all times I try to implement the strategies recommended by my Psychologist.

She listens to my story and sets gentle tasks with a report back at our next appointment.

Her treatment is a seamless weave of several types of behaviour therapy.

Mindfulness.

Meditation.

Grief counselling.

Radical acceptance.

My task was to establish a meditation retreat, at a pace I was able to manage.

To breathe in the fresh air and help me remember that there was an outside.

An outside, eager to engage.

We decided on the key features.

Destimulation.

Quietude.

Growth.

A place to read poetry and write in my journal.

Each morning to watch the sunrise.

Later in the day to return to be warmed.

To practice gentle mindfulness and relaxation techniques.

I chose just one metre of a long raised garden bed, shaded by a rambling orange trumpet vine.

Remembering my Psychologist’s words, ‘at a pace I was able to manage.’

I decided on a simple approach.

The rudimentary.

First I chose the seeds and pinch pots.

Nasturtiums are easy to grow and with vibrancy they flower for months.

I could imagine them climbing the fence behind.

A bright orange and green backdrop to complement the rambling orange trumpet vine above.

And now for pinch pots.

No need to ponder.

Alyssum and violets.

They had been my Mother’s favourites. Ross’ beloved Nan.

Hanging pots for spider grass cuttings.

A hanging basked of Tahitian Bridal Veil, perfect for the indirect sunlight.

Some garden embellishments.

A mobile of pot plant watering cans; of varying sizes and colours.

Yellow, pink, green and magenta.

A duck and a rooster.

Other metal art.

Jo, we are the two birds and this photo is always with me.

Time to prepare the soil.

I planted seeds and pinch pots.

I tended to their needs.

I watched them grow.

They nourished my soul!

*

I question myself.

How do I feel about my mediation garden now?

Now in 2023, living in my own Affordable Housing one bedroom unit with my balcony garden.

I reflect on that time?

I feel healing and progress.

My meditation garden.

Just a metre wide.

It had provided me with a gentle place of rest.

I had felt hope that I too would emerge into the World beyond.

I did.

And discovered the outside, eager to engage.

***

You may like to read about my balcony garden:

Or my friend Jo (She died sometime after wrote this. RIP.)

‘Jo, we are the two birds and this photo is always with me.’

Pauline Fountain. © 2023. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author.