She hears the gate closing behind her. A cool breeze lifts her skirt. Shuddering slightly she feels alone, yet excited. In the far distance, she hears the call of a lyrebird. Or an owl perhaps? There is no going back now. Her bare feet carefully test the ground, feeling sticks and leaves mushed together in a cool blanket.
The night lures her in as stars are lighting up and soft moonlight shimmers on the trees. Although she is alone, there is a reassuring sense about this place. A familiarity about it that stirs something deep in her. It feels as if she has arrived at a place for the first time but somehow has visited many times before.
All she hears is the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves. The stillness of the night invites her to enter deeper. She has lost track of the others. She has forgotten them completely. All she is aware of is her breath.
Between the in-breath and the out-breath, she rests.
The silence that embraces her rocks her gently, reassuringly
The rhythm is changing, but she has not found the beat yet.
She knows she has to wait, rest, not even feel the need to breathe.
It will come. This time in a different way.
Maybe as a whisper, or a gentle breeze.
Only a stirring, a quickening of new life
She waits
As she reaches into her pocket, she feels the soft dryness of the scrambled up invitation. Dried out flower petals crumble under her fingers. She remembers the day it came. She was alone at home. The letter had her name written on it. It seemingly dropped out of thin air onto their front lawn. She looked around to see who delivered it, but there was only a playful breeze moving through the trees. Mesmerized she picked it up and held it close to her heart. The letter felt precious. The paper was like something she has never seen or felt before, a satiny silkiness sealed with a waxed crown.
Maybe this was not meant for her after all. But her curiosity got the better of her and she carried the letter into the house and up to her room where she knew nobody would disturb her. She opened the invitation that has been sent to her from long ago and far away.
There is an inner garden you have to tend to, oh brilliant one
Luring you into the beauty of yourself
Find the doorway
that has been there all along
O, I know you have been hurt too many times
But do not allow that to keep you from opening the door
where the secret lies
It has been waiting for a long time
The doorway through your heart
I know it has been broken too many times, too often
But this is where the secret lies
The doorway of your heart contains the secret
Go find it – it is opening now!
The invitation was sent to many others as well. Maybe you received it too? For some, it was blown away on the wind. Others heard a faint whisper and thought they imagined it. For others, it smelled familiar. Only a few looked up at the sky and saw it written in the clouds. They decided to follow the unheard call. It was faint; almost invisible, yet so alluring.
And like her, they decided to follow the clouds over the mountains and river and streams. When they lost sight of the clouds, eagles would sweep down and gracefully show them the way. After what felt like millennia, the clouds vanished and they arrived at a gate, a secret abyss. Should they enter? Was it safe to go through? Still, the faint calling, a gentle stirring in their bellies, urged them to take a step closer. The gate opened slightly, just wide enough for one person to enter.
The garden has many mysteries and magic for those who wish to enter.
Wayne Dyer
What better setting than a garden to remember our own sacredness? The garden that is alive with movement and growth as the trees shed and grow new leaves, flowers blossom and fruits burst forth abundantly. This dance of the seasons takes place right in front of our eyes if we care to notice and know that we are supposed to dance along. The garden reminds us to return to this place of remembering our true nature and being connected to a blissful inner state of being that is the secret to life.
There is really only one way of remembering and that is by choosing to enter the garden once again. Entering the mystery of our heritage, our shared story. Being willing to let go of all former beliefs that kept us out of the garden, trapped in false beliefs and illusions about our real make-up. And there were many of those over the ages.
The variety of flowers are central to a garden, adding beauty, variety and abundance to it. The flower is closely connected to the planet Venus. The five-pointed flower is a physical manifestation of the five-pointed star or Venus Flower, created by the 8-year cycle of Venus around the earth. The alchemists also called the five-pointed flower “the sacred womb.”
There is a mystery in the design of the five-pointed flower. Pythagoras described five as the number of nature and life, consisting of the essential four elements air, fire, earth, and water, as well as a fifth element without which life would not be possible. This fifth element is not tangible, visible of concrete but very much present in all life forms. Pythagoras described this as the “Quintesssence” which means the “purest and most essential part of anything.” Without it, no life would be possible.
That is also the essence of who we are. Life won’t be possible for us if we do not discover the mystery of the fifth element within ourselves — the intangible, the indescribable, but yet so very palpable when we remember again. We have a physical body, an emotional nature, a mental faculty as well as a soul. All of that is important, but at the center or core is the secret of life. The divine nature that connects us to the pulse of love. That for which we can find no words, but that we recognize when we enter the inner garden.
When we discover this part of ourselves, we initiate growth and evolution similar to what we witness in a flower. The 5-pointed flower or star sets up the Phi ratio, also called the “Golden Ratio” that gives form to the basic spiral. This growth pattern is seen all-over the natural world and most fascinating, in the human body as well.Just think about the “Vitruvian Man” of Da Vinci that portrayed this divine proportion of the human body. The ancients knew this and confirmed it with the saying: “ Man is the measure of all things”.
In entering the garden, all the life forms surrounding us just want to remind us that we are part of these basic life-giving principles. We were not supposed to leave paradise. The fact that we did, took us on a journey of suffering and delusion where we were so disconnected from our true nature. This is still evident in the culture of today where there is a fixation on outer wealth and power.
All the time, the real power is hidden within, but only for those with eyes to recognise it. You need a different pair of glasses to recognise this hidden beauty within yourself. But it is there in each of us. You are not an exception to this rule. That I can guarantee you. Just look at your own body to see the mystery. Just spend some time in a garden and feel the connection between your own nature and Nature.
Therefore, make time to enter the garden daily. This can be a physical garden or it can be a space inside. It will welcome you. It has been waiting for you all along. Paradise is where “everything breathes together”, where that which belongs to you arrive in perfect harmony between your inner and outer worlds. Breathe deeply and know you are home.
