Artwork by Elowen Digital
if you see me in heaven
tell the gardener
i lived sumptuously
as pomegranates do
I awoke this morning with a desire to publish a post on the subject of creating ambiance, or ambient spaces, which is something I very much enjoy. I have a deep love of beautiful things and, whether through art, poetry, essays like this one, or the spaces I inhabit, I always aspire to some form of beauty. I am also rather sensitive to the aesthetics of my environment. I have a general disdain for clutter and for spaces that are not, in some way, aesthetically pleasing or inviting.
In the post, On Nurturing, I talked a bit about my love for creating warm and welcoming spaces. For making a house a home. For transforming my backyard into a space that is bursting with color and with life. For making my home office (which also doubles as an art studio and reading nook) into a kind of personal sanctuary. All of those activities, to my mind, can be thought of in terms of an inner nurturer. One who enjoys creating life-giving spaces and using those spaces to care for oneself and others.
But, this morning, as I was attempting to outline the post, On Ambiance, my mind kept returning to the image of a gardener—even to the lines of poetry above, which I wrote several years ago (and haven’t thought about in ages). And that image simply wouldn’t leave me. “Don’t write about ambiance,” a voice in the back of my mind insisted. “Write about The Gardener.”
Who, might you ask, is The Gardener? In short: God. I have a tendency to think of God—metaphorically, of course—as a gardener. Rightly or wrongly. Maybe that sounds strange, or maybe not. After all, the Bible contains multiple passages that refer to God as a gardener, to Jesus as the seed of life, and to the kingdom of God as a seed, as in Mark 4:26-27: “This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how.”
Perhaps those images have embedded themselves in my consciousness. And perhaps I’ve come to think about living in ways that reflect a generosity, a creativity, and even a lavishness of spirit as planting the seeds of life wherever one goes. Of living sumptuously as the pomegranates do.
I like that metaphor very much. I also like the idea of the “gardener” within being a source of abundance in one’s life. I want to locate this force within the feminine, and while it is very much related to the nurturing impulse, I think it’s also distinct and deserves its own self-fashioning narrative. I would like to note, too, that while I am fond of the image of God as a gardener, the narrative I’m about to write is in no way a religious one. The gardener, as an archetypal influence, according to my inner experience, is deeply rooted in feminine sensuality.
The gardener is a source of abundance. She sprinkles the seed of life wherever she goes. She is an agent of transformation and a wellspring of creative energy. She can turn a house into a home, a meal into a celebration, a garden into an entire ecosystem. Everything she touches increases in life. The ground she walks on is always fertile ground.
The gardener uses her creative energy to make spaces that are warm, welcoming, and soothing to the soul. She knows how to harness the power of the seasons to create an atmosphere that is dynamic and alive. In the wintertime, she fills her home with the scent of freshly-baked cookies and long, slow-cooked suppers served in front of the fire. In the spring and summer, she cooks with herbs fresh from her garden and adorns her table with vibrant colors and fresh flowers. She is warm and loving.
If she cares for you, she won’t buy you gifts. She will create for you. That is the ultimate expression of her spirit. The gardener has a gift for making the impersonal personal. If given a cold, impersonal space, she will immediately make it her own. If she cannot find beauty and goodness in the outside world, she will make it herself.
The gardener is a maker of worlds. She has a gift for creating climates, atmospheres that are inherently nurturing and healing for herself and for those she loves. This is where she derives her strength.


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