Z is for Zen #AtoZChallenge
On April 30, 2015 | 17 Comments | books, gardening, writing |

Congratulations, fellow AtoZ Challenge participants! We made it! *pops virtual champagne cork* Thanks to all who visited during this busy month! I applaud all of you who dove in and gave it your all.


When I was younger, I wanted to identify with one spiritual practice and went on a search for what that would be. I entered churches where people got saved, and I entered churches where people stood up and gave each other psychic readings. I have done a vision quest and Native American sweat lodges. I studied Catholicism for a while. Eventually I converted to Judaism, but even that wore thin for me.

I wanted to belong to something. I longed for that community of like-minded spiritual practitioners. I just never found that in organized religion.

These days, I can honestly say I have found a measure of peace in my life. I say “measure,” because I live with a certain existential discontent. At some level, that’s how I’m wired. Restlessness and curiosity are part of my nature. I don’t mind, though, and one could say I have found peace even with that discontent in place.

That peace, that zen, happens when I spend time in nature. Whether I’m on a hike or digging up weeds, this is where I discover myself, where I am calm, where I am most alive. As I work out garden problems, I work out plot problems, too. Writing and gardening, for me, are entwined.

It’s been an honor to share my garden zen with you this month. I applaud the organizers and many volunteers who have made the AtoZ Challenge so rewarding and fun. I honor all of you fellow bloggers for your content. You have made me laugh, cry, and think. Thank you!

I hope some of you will stay with me on this journey. I won’t always write about the garden, but the themes you have seen here will show up in other forms.

If you have enjoyed what you’ve read, please consider purchasing one of my books listed below. I never do a hard sell, but shame on me if I don’t mention them.

In yoga, we join the palms of our hands together at our hearts and bow to each other. We say “Namaste,” loosely meaning, “I bow to the divine in you.” Namaste, and I hope we will meet again.


The Foreign Language of Friends

When a Grandchild Dies: What to Do, What to Say, How to Cope

Patchwork & Ornament: A Woman’s Journey of Life, Love, and Art by Jeanette Feldman (edited by Nadine Galinsky Feldman) — to purchase this book, please send me a message on the “Contact Me” page.

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