Hello, hello! Today a friend told me that she spotted an article I submitted to Apartment Therapy featuring my parents’ garden. I had planned on sharing some of my latest memories from their garden already, so that exciting news came in seamlessly! Check it out:

With that in mind, I just want to express some mushy love towards my parents. Like the article said, in the beginning when I was studying I left a tiny garden behind for my parents to watch over. Low and behold when I came back, it was untouched and had dried up. It’s okay though… no hard feelings, Mom and Dad! But a few years later, my parents stepped up to their own plates and started a venture into the world of organic gardening. I think it’s an examples of all those sayings that talk about going on or making our own paths. What’s important to each of us is something that we discover through our own experiences, and we add them to our files, sometimes making them a part of our daily priorities. And the thing is… what matters to me may not matter to someone else. Hearing about the beginnings of the garden when I’d talk to my parents on the phone, and seeing its growth on each visit–especially during my last one–has been a joyful experience. From my parents triumphantly sharing the gardens’ bounty, to hearing about all of the efforts that go into keeping an organic garden. It’s just helped bring something back into my parents’ spirits that I can hear in their voices and see in their eyes. It lies within their hearts. I must say though, that I’m glad that me and my family have a strong kinship, made even stronger by being able to share the things we care about. It wasn’t always like that either though.
Actually, taking a step back, I think this garden has inspired and revived a wholesome way of being within my family. Much how I meditate on the parallels between life and what goes on in a kitchen or a yoga mat, my family has been living those lessons through the garden. A garden doesn’t just come out of nowhere, unless it’s the Garden of Eden. Although things do grow in the wild, there is a caring and thoughtful energy that goes into tending a garden. You learn where the plants seem to thrive the most, next to which plants, how much to water them, when to water them, rubbing olive oil on their leaves to protect them from hungry worms, all their little secrets. Similar to how we take care and learn from the relationships we have with people in our lives. When I would walk through the garden, checking up on the plants, I would breathe out a loving feeling. After all, they do “eat” CO2. And as I’m walking through life I see my words and actions as a bridge–a connection–to this world. An opportunity to build one.
With tomatoes being picked by the basketful, my family was coming up with ways to prepare them, aside from popping them into our mouths.
















