I am sitting here in my garden on my hilltop in the middle of summer of my 71st year. I can hear some distant traffic noises but mostly I’m in the quiet of the garden with all sorts of birds chirping and singing and generally going about their morning routines. I have come down to the lower garden with my vinegar sprayer to beat back the incessant arrival of weeds. It’s what I would call a low energy gardening activity that takes slightly more effort than watering but far less effort than pruning. Those three activities watering, weeding and pruning are the things I do in my garden if I’m not working on some larger project. It’s not so different than what anyone does in their garden, but my garden is my garden and that makes it different and more meaningful to me. Within my field of vision at this moment, I have large lush ficus trees that separate me from my neighbor to the north. In front of me I have a palm tree, a Mesquite tree, a Palo Verde tree, Jacaranda tree, a flowering silk tree and a coral tree. At ground level, there are countless agaves and almost as many lilies. I can see Pride of Madera, Yucca, various indigenous, flowering bushes and a Crêpe Myrtle. There is nothing about this garden that is so very different than other gardens in the area except that it’s a bit more lush because I keep it well-watered and it’s a bit more diverse because I keep planting new and different things, not caring whether they are perfectly suited to the other plants around them, but rather just wanting to have the diversity for diversity sake.
When I sit in my garden, pondering as I am this morning, I find myself gravitating to an old quandary. I can’t help, but wonder what it is that we humans are always seeking and what it takes to conclude that we have found something rather than continuing the quest. The obvious answer is that we are seeking peace, but I wonder if that’s really the goal. I know we are all about the questions, but the answers to the mysteries of the universe are rarely revealed to us mere mortals, but that never seems to stop us. Maybe we are looking for meaning and purpose. Those are certainly themes that abound in literature and philosophy. The problem is that there are only so many answers to that question. It probably starts for most as a mission to achieve some form of success. Then it’s probably focused on finding love in a primary relationship. Then at one point in life it’s all about our children. That’s when things start to get tricky. I’m not saying success, love and children go away. Most often these goals just stack up and remain with us. But at some point we seem to transcend all of those early goals as we get our careers where we want them, as we either find love or decide it ain’t what we thought or when our children grow and go off to build their own lives and presumably their own search for meaning and purpose. It’s at that point that the real search for meaning and purpose begins for some of us.
I had enough success to douse that fire in my loins. It took me a few tries, but I found the love that will sustain me for the rest of my life. And I have three children who are off building their lives and for whom I have done the best I am able. I have kept a vestige of my career in the form of my expert witness work. I am never further from my beloved Kim than circumstances require. And we make a serious point of prioritizing being connected to and gathering with my children as often as we can. I have supplemented that triad of goals with my writing and my gardening and I most often think that is enough for me to feel satisfied that I have found my meaning and my purpose. But as much as that feels like the right answer for me, there are moments when I find myself wondering if I have done enough. I see some who do much less and others who seem to have endless things on their plate that seem meaningful.
I find comfort in thinking about my mother and my step-father. They both lived good long lives of 100 and 95 years respectively. They both had first class educations. They both traveled the world and led different but fascinating lives. They both made a point of grabbing for all the gusto they could while still fulfilling their obligations to have and raise children (3 and 1 respectively). They both left their marks of the history of their era, before the war, during the war and after the war. And when they were both done and settling into retirement, they rediscovered one another and added a final loving chapter to their lives that served to connect the past with the present. They lived out their days more or less quietly and did not seem too very concerned about adding to their meaning or purpose in life. The more I think of them the more I think they did it right. Their seeking and finding was the story of their lives. His took him to Hawaii and a life out of a James Michener novel complete with making his career on horseback. Hers was spent in the more challenging parts of the world, working to create opportunities for others. They had, in their own ways all that they needed to feel secure in the notion that their lives had indeed been meaningful and purposeful. I did not sense any added or remedial seeking and finding. There was only peace.
No one can see inside another person’s soul, so I can’t say for sure that my mother of step-father were as satisfied with their life’s work as I sense they were. In fact, I’m not certain that its anyone else’s business to examine someone else’s life. But as much as that is a credo I can stand by, I am unable to stop my own self-examination. And as much as I caution against external judgement, I believe self examination is a critical requirement of us all. So, I will continue to find a bench in my garden and spend time often, if not daily, examining my life and asking if there is more I should be doing. Rather than think of that as an absence of inner peace, I choose to think of it as a validation that my version of peace come from the continuous certainty of self awareness. It’s not that peace is overrated, its just that it may be asymptotic and thus never quite fully attainable.