By Heather Caldwell, LPCC
This is part four of my series about relationships.
In the first three, I talk about the hierarchy of needs, relationship patterns, and codependency. In all of these blog posts, I make the connection between our bodies, our brains, and our nervous systems. I talk about the unconscious ways we connect with others, the subtle limbic resonance that triggers attractions, and some of the science behind why we do what we do. This post takes a slightly different approach.
Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." -Rumi
The Garden of Our Love
I have two gardens on my property. One is in a greenhouse. It is filled with tomatoes, squashes, and cucumbers. These plants grow tall. The zucchini and cucumbers climb and in such a tight space they need something to climb up. So I provide latticing for them to curl their reaching tendrils around. As they grow, their outstretched tendrils pull them higher up the wall. For the most part, they don’t need additional tending past the first bit to help guide them to the lattice wall. Once they attach they will climb as high as they can, reaching and growing towards the sun, and they will produce their edible delights.
The tomatoes, as they grow tall, need support, too. However, they need a bit more tending to. When the plants are still small I put metal cages around them. This allows the plants to grow up and out, without falling over by the weight of the branches and the fruit. Tomatoes also need pruning. Pruning the tomato plant allows the fruit on the main branches to reach their maximum efficiency. This means, more nutrients go to the available fruit making them plump, juicy, and big. Of course, they don’t need to be pruned. They can grow wild and in doing so they will yield more fruit. But yielding more fruit isn’t always the best as the fruit that’s produced won’t be as big and might not be as sweet and juicy because there’s more fruit competing for nutrients.
Where I live, the nights are cool and the days can be hot. If it gets too cold in the greenhouse, the plants start to go dormant. Since I want an optimal harvest, I use a heater at night to warm the greenhouse. During the day, the sun rises and warms the greenhouse. I track the temperature so the plants don’t wilt with heat. If it starts to get too hot I crack the door and/or turn on some fans.
The plants in my greenhouse don’t produce their offerings quickly. It takes weeks before I start to see baby green tomatoes, tiny furry cucumbers, and skinny little zucchini. But I know that with pruning, care and attention, and the right nutrients, I will be rewarded with the deliciousness of their offerings. And as they grow, I find comfort and peace working in the greenhouse. These small efforts will pay off in the harvest and it’s the least I can do for the plants that will provide me with so much for months to come.
This is a dance and a labor of love, and I do this without hesitation.
The other garden is outside. It is filled with leafy greens, cruciferous vegetables, Brussels sprouts, and root vegetables. I have rows of vegetables that grow above the ground; they grow big and wild. Their leaves get so big that I can no longer see the dirt beneath them and I have to be careful when I walk through the garden. Even though this garden doesn't appear to need tending if I ignore it the weeds grow tall and start to choke out the vegetables. If I don’t tend to the leafy greens and pluck some off each day to eat, they rot on the ground or they shoot up and go to seed. If I don’t get the cruciferous vegetables when they are ready, they will mold and become inedible. If I don’t keep my eye on the garden, even occasionally, some of the food will go to waste and I will not be able to enjoy the fruits of my labor.
The leafy greens provide their offerings quickly and if I tend to them properly, plucking a leaf here and another there, they will provide for me all summer and into the fall. The root vegetables don’t need tending now. But come fall, when it’s time for their harvest, I will have to dig them up, clean them off, and store them. I love the parallel: they grow underground in the darkness and cool soil, and if I tend to them properly, they will provide for me through the long dark, and cold winter months.
It is a labor of love and I do it wholeheartedly.
When I buy produce from the grocery store, I miss all the work that went into the process of growing and harvesting. I just see produce. I see produce that all look relatively similar: tomatoes that are circular, carrots that are a straight line, cucumbers that are uniform in size. But in tending my garden, I know there’s more variation. Some carrots look like they have legs, forking at the bottom. Some tomatoes are bumpy or split. Some cucumbers grow larger than my arm and as small as my pinky finger.
Relationships as Gardening
It might seem odd to talk about my garden in a series about relationships (outside of the obvious love for my garden!). But there are so many parallels between the two, and I hear about many of these in my office with clients. Some complaints are that their relationship doesn’t look like someone else’s, or like the movies, or like they think it should. Like the grocery store vegetables, they may think relationships should look a certain way. But there is no one way for a relationship to look.
Like the garden, relationships take some tending to. Some require more tending and pruning, like tomatoes. Some just need a little assistance, like the zucchini or cucumbers. Some are wild and free. Some provide quickly like the leafy greens, while others are slow growing and take a while to see like the root vegetables. Regardless of how they look or start, they need proper tending to if they are to flourish. If we ignore our garden or our relationship, they will not last and/or will grow unhealthy. If we overdo it with the garden (too much water or heat or nutrients) or with the relationship (codependency, obsessive, demanding), they will not last and/or will grow unhealthy.
But like tending the garden, tending to our relationships doesn’t have to be “hard work.” It can be a labor of love and richness. And if tended to, it can offer long-lasting rewards.
Part of this work is bringing the unconscious to the conscious. As the Rumi quote at the blog’s beginning poses, we need to find what our own barriers are to being in a fulfilling, healthy, and satisfying relationship. In gardening, if my leaves turn brown or start to curl up or otherwise not look the way it “should,” I need to figure out why. What is needed to help the plant thrive? Are there mites or aphids? Does the soil have enough nitrates? Am I over watering? I don’t pluck the plant out of the soil and toss it because something isn’t going quite right. And I can’t just assume the problem.
In our relationships, we might be more prone to “pluck it” because it’s too hard or create a story that it’s because our partner isn’t meeting our needs. Or maybe that we’ve been hurt in the past and know exactly how this will turn out, so we might as well cut our losses now.
But if we tend to our relationships like we tend to the garden, we need to understand the root of the issue. It’s about understanding our own selves, our wants, and our desires. It’s about finding ways to be more fully present in our relationships. It’s about building clear and honest communication. It’s about establishing a balance between partners, creating boundaries for each as an individual as well as boundaries for the relationship, and providing support for each other so, like the garden, the relationship can grow towards the warm sunshine. It’s about cultivating a healthy, empowered, and thriving relationship. It’s about a labor of love that feeds us and nourishes us in partnership.
If you’re having relationship troubles, want to explore your unconscious relationship patterns, or want support in strengthening your relationship, therapists at Evolve in Nature see individuals and couples. Call us today for a free consultation.