Few words about ''The Garden''

There are few questions which keep coming back into mind, no matter how far in life I get. The more I move towards a destination, the more I keep questioning the place of origin.

Where do we belong ?

There is a certain stubbornness in making the place where we source our roots meaningful. Might be a country, a marriage, a profession..it might be our friendships or a house with walls and windows, but as soon as the stability of any of these is shaken , we will question our belonging again.

One wonders why the house is not stronger, why the love does not last forever..and why the country doesn’t want to mirror us any longer. This questioning begins to hound us.

I am trying to find a better soil, where I can dig a deeper hole, plant stronger seeds. This might be the next thing to do .

I will nourish the growing plants with my‘‘better self’’ , only to find myself ..some time later, empty handed and empty hearted. After losing the harvest of my work, I will try again and again. I will contemplate the amputated roots, why are they blooming upside down? Why are they drying out, in a unimagined distortion, rather unpredictable?

Meeting a stranger, he will ask me: Where are you from? I will try to give a correct answer, naming a town or a country but knowing that that is not the answer I should give.

At this point, the feeling of being lost will become overwhelming. I will stop recognizing the streets I walk down every morning, the bakery where I buy my bread, the people I pour my love into, my hands feel like foreign objects doing familiar things.

In all this ‘‘jamais vu’’ agony, I might try to taste, drink, love, feel, live, talk, hear, smell everything I ever did, hoping that I will find that something which could make me feel at ‘‘home’’.

One morning, I wake up and find myself at peace.I feel a strong smell of earth and rain, a smell which give me an enormous pleasure. I will grab the gardening tools. I will remember that I have seeds left from the last garden I planted. I will find them, almost lost..in some corner of life. I will swallow them, take them in with all my being and start to feel more complete. The seeds will grow, rootless plants will bloom with no limits. I will find myself overwhelmed in this Eden I did imagine but I never found.

I will start walking with an easiness I always have dreamed of. Because at this point , I have my shelter, my interior Garden and the root is me.

When a stranger asks me where am I from, I will smile and say that I am from myself.

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