It is Summer Solstice, which is a holiday in my religion. But I’m a bit on the tired side (it’s been over 100 degrees, and I’ve also had a lot going on), and I have a 6 am wake-up for hydrating adequately before I arrive at the farm tomorrow. Usually, when I overwork myself, as I have so far this week – and it comes at the cost of my meditative and ceremonial time – I feel much more of a sense of inner resistance and discord. But tonight, I keep thinking – there is no need for ceremony. God is in the garden.
You see, I’m an animist and a pantheist. For me, the divine is in everything. It’s everywhere in nature. Divine wisdom is in every being, from rocks to tomato plants to bears. Divine connection is in my own heartbeat if I choose to feel its pulse resonate in the other surges in nature – the tides, the ocean waves, the drop-drop-drop of water in a dripline, the purring of my cats. All beings are miraculously and vibrantly alive and conscious for me. They are willing teachers, and I need only listen.
So, God is in the garden. And it is OK that I am tired, and instead of doing my prayers and meditations, I will go to sleep. Because in the morning, as I wind trellis string around tomato shoots, I will be attending to God. As I water newly planted pepper plants, I will be showering the green veil of God with the nourishing water of God. As I sweat in the sun as the temperature soars, I will feel the heat and fire of God, and my body will respond with its own microcosm of a whole world of cells working together in unison. And I will feel the connection to my ancestors, who farmed for thousands of years until my grandparents decided to leave the soil… before my mother, my aunt, my sister, and I started to reclaim it as our inheritance.
I can’t imagine a better way to celebrate Summer Solstice.