Pruning the Sacred Garden
Pruning the Sacred Garden…
When we bought our home, I became the care taker of 5 big
mature rose bushes. When they bloom, they are pink, yellow, red, and coral in
color. Their blooms are big gorgeous flowers with a magical fragrance. They are
a blessing to my home, neighbors, bees, and birds.
In autumn however, their blooms are gone, and the bushes are
dry after a long hot summer. They go fallow, and rest, waiting for the rain to
come, so they can bloom again. Their old blossoms are petal less dry rose hips
that lead to a dead end for growth. Until pruned and tended there will be no more
blossoms.
Today was the day, I found my heavy leather gloves, sheers,
and the small chain saw, and went out to clear the way for new growth, new
blossoms, and new blessings. Tomorrow night is the November full moon, a time
when I reflect on what I need to release, so I can make room for the intentions
I am co-creating with the new moon. After gathering the rose hips, I whispered a
little prayer to these old rose bushes and let them know my intent, and started
cutting. Some branches easily fell away showing me exactly the right spot to
cut, so they can flourish again. But others were not so easy, they poked, and
scratched me, as I doubted myself and wondered, “Am I doing this right?” “Is this too much?” “Am I
killing it?” As I cut and pruned the thorny wood and vines, I imagined I was
working in my Sacred Garden.
In Shamanism, the Sacred Garden is a garden within. We come
to this garden through shamanic journey- a trace like state that allows us to
explore non-ordinary reality. Our Sacred Garden is a place of empowerment, and
magic, where every plant symbolizes an aspect of ourselves, and is a reflection
of our life. In our Sacred Garden every herb, rock, and plant is a Spiritual Being
with whom we can communicate and learn from. When we tend and grow our Sacred
Garden our lives change to reflect it.
After a while, I stepped back to look at the work I had
done. The big dry bushes are cut down. Down to bare branches rising a few feet
from the ground. I can see my house better now that they are cut back, low, and
small. Space has been created. Does it look nice? No, it looks bare, and dead,
but also clear and free. This is the void. The sacred void that is necessary
for future blooms. It is in this void we practice faith. Faith that rain will
come, that our roses will grow back and flourish in spring more than ever,
because of the courageous pruning done in November. Faith that when we journey
within and work to cultivate our Sacred Gardens, we plant seeds of hope that
grow into blessings in our lives. Faith that the clearing we do in with the
full moon will be blessed by the new moon.
Blessed pruning!
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