Pride and Pruning
I just spent a little over an hour working outside the Center pruning bushes and cleaning up a bit. I was there helping our Saturday morning volunteers. One of them drags around an oxygen tank and I know at least one is an octogenarian. I lasted an hour. Tops. They were working when I got here and are still working. Yikes! I bow to their superior stick-to-it-ness.
I find that doing physical work is good for me, no matter how much I might avoid it. It’s good for me when I get too stuck in how hard it is to do all the mental work I do. It’s also good for me when I get too puffed up with pride, thinking about how I can do things better than other people and start thinking that means something. What Spirit was pruning from me out there was the unhealthy kind of pride. Healthy pride says I have intrinsic worth. Unhealthy pride says I have more intrinsic worth than you do.
I doubt very much those bushes out there are comparing themselves to each other and noticing who I left lopsided or where there are still stray flyaway branches. I know they aren’t comparing how they looked before to how they look now and lamenting that they can’t afford a better hair dresser… uhm, gardener. Emerson once wrote:
These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God to-day. There is no time to them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower, there is no more; in the leafless root, there is no less. Its nature is satisfied, and it satisfies nature, in all moments alike. There is no time to it. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future. He cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time.
When I get stuck in unhealthy pride, I am miserable. Nothing I do will ever be good enough. Nothing I say will ever be wise enough. I know this is something most of you already know, but the answer will always be to go back to God (by whatever name you use). Get back into this moment. Remember that you are like the other plants, no better and no worse, that exist in the Divine Garden. You are there for a reason that is all yours. Physical work, as much as I might try to avoid it, helps me get back in the present.
Maybe today was about pruning my unhappy pride as much as helping out our volunteers. I’ll probably come up with a hundred and one excuses to do other work on the first Saturday of other months. But in the future, I’ll be aware that spending an hour with the landscape is worth the time.