Christmas; a time of giving. In 1981 I was given a gift. I’d like to share it.

Now Go Find Your Greenhouse

“Sharon needs to meet my mother”…

Her name was Wynne.

I didn’t know what to expect from this woman called Wynne, what type of person she was, what she’d look like, so I decided what I wanted to receive. I wanted my Grandma Elsie. Soft cloud-like white hair, horned rimmed glasses, orthopaedic shoes, dentures that clicked while she spoke. A sound that is both endearing and irritating. She’d be wearing a floral house dress that would eventually find its way into the design of a quilt, alongside, scraps from summer curtains and slip-covers. She’d be sweet, gentle and loving. She’d be baking a pie when I arrived, right out of a Grandma Smith’s box from the freezer section of the grocery store. Comfortable with my vision, I was ready.

We rang the doorbell and as the door opened Grandma Elsie was slapped out of me as I fell head-long into the reality of Wynne.

“Come on, come on, get yourself in here.”

This impatient greeting was probably due to my dumbfounded and stuck in my tracks stance. Wynne was not Elsie, really – Wynne was not Elsie! Her hair was a steel grey, in a style that said, “Just do what you want, hair’s hair, just make sure I don’t have to do anything with it.” Her glasses were tinted brown, which only added to the blah of her sallow skin and the floral sundress had been replaced with brown polyester, mock turtleneck and matching elasticized waistband slacks. God forbid we introduce even a hint of colour! And, if my bubble had not been burst enough – waving in her hand, beckoning me to entre, was a cigarette. Wynne smoked! And in her home!

“Here we are – you can sit there – this is my chair over here.”

All the while the hand directing me, held a cigarette, a baton of smoke choreographing the command to follow. No verbal response of agreement seemed to be required. Not sure though, if following along in a ‘do as I’m told” demeanour was impressive. Did it indicate I was respectful or that I was absent of any backbone?

“Well, now, where are you at?”

Oh my god – a quiz. I wasn’t prepared for this. I was still in my dumbfounded state trying to figure out why life couldn’t have gone easy on me and just presented me with a clone of Grandma Elsie.

“I not sure,” was the best I could come up with.

“Well try. How do you feel, where are you at?” she repeated.

Being even more adamant (as if that could be possible) jolted me into the beginning of knowing something.

“I feel like I’m running out of time. I thought I would know more by now. Who I am; where I’m going. But, I don’t. I’m not well, I’m not happy and I’m in a relationship that isn’t good.”

She looked away. Although she remained to sit in the matching (yes brown) tub chair to mine, her whole being took on the energy of reverie. Gone somewhere else, found, rather than lost, in her own thoughts.

Breaking free, she looked back to me and began.

“Sometimes I take a walk. I make my way across the adjoining field and venture on to the property of my neighbours where he has a greenhouse. He’s a very talented gardener. His passion is orchids. I likewise have this affinity for them. They’re beautiful, don’t you think?”

A wave of the smoking baton led me to the window where on the sill was a potted orchid. Finally, some colour.

“He lets me visit his greenhouse whenever I want and stay for as long as I like. There is a white wrought iron table and chairs and I sit there and breathe in the orchids. Their scent, the smell of the soil that they are rooted in, the hue of their petals, the delicate sturdiness of the stock that supports their essence, the humidity in the air that comes to rest on my face. On the table is a large glossy paged hard covered book filled with photos of even more exquisite orchids. I leaf through the book, I take my time. It’s quiet there. I am at peace and I know that I am safe. I can think, I can relax, I can imagine, I can dream – I have the most detailed visions. Here, I can focus. In this place I can get very close to me, to who I am.”

“And when I’m done, I close the book and take one more look around, I give a silent thanks and I make my way home.”

“Now you go home and you find your greenhouse.”

Days later after reciting the Wynne visit to my mother (who was my connection) I would learn that there was no neighbour and no such greenhouse. The only truth was that Wynne had a passion for orchids.

Yet the single instruction of, “Now go find your own greenhouse” kept repeating inside my head.

And then it came to me.

I was to find my own place, like Wynne’s greenhouse. Somewhere that was beautiful, that made me feel good, that brought me peace. Like her, a place where I could relax and think. Where I could imagine and what I imagined I could see, smell, taste and touch. A place where I had the freedom to stay as long as I liked – a place where I was safe.

And there I was.

On a hilltop behind the farm where I had grown up, I felt I could see forever. It was a safe distance from my life. From here there was always a breeze. The air was fresh and clean. I could look out and over the land. The grass was tall, rich and succulent – the kind that when plucked and placed between your thumbs you can whistle through. There was farmland all around. Hay fields, pasture, cow paths that marked the journey back at the close of the day, a herd of horses. Pinto’s, dapple grays and bays spent the day grazing and batting flies with their tails. Here I felt good. I felt clear. Here I released sadness, pain, confusion and the sorrow of a sick heart. Here I could allow myself to be quiet, to open and receive – not what I wanted, but what I needed. I began to detach and focus on the beauty of these surroundings, rather than the dismal state of my affairs.

Here I surrendered the lie of wasted time and opened up to the possibility that I was on time. Where I was so sure I’d fallen off course into a dark ditch of confusion, was perhaps the course that I had needed in order to bring me to this place where I could begin to receive what I had been missing.

On my hilltop I became still and I began to make my way back to me.

I had found my greenhouse.

May you find yours.

I wanted my Grandma Elsie.
I got Wynne.
There are times we hear much better when the message is delivered in an unexpected package.

Finding Your Greenhouse
The Safe Place Meditation

We live such busy lives – what better way for Life to get our attention that we need to slow down. Action is to give way to rest. In order to rejuvenate, recharge, to receive; you need to be still, to quiet one’s self. A method of doing this is through meditation. Rather than a time to tune out it is a time to tune in. In order to receive your information you need to listen so that you may hear. To listen you need to be silent. Look closely – listen and silent contain the same letters.

Begin all meditations with a prayer of intention. Set the standard. Make the choice to be in and of the light only and to receive your information at a pace that you can handle.

The light of God surrounds me
The love of God enfolds me
The power of God protects me
The presence of God watches over me
Wherever I am, God is.

I am Divinely guided and protected
I receive in and of the Light only
I receive only what I need at this time.

(You can substitute God for Life or whatever is the equivalent.)

Choose your Safe Place to be somewhere in nature, where you can feel calm, quiet and safe. It can be a place you know, one you’d like to experience or your own creation. The idea is to allow your senses to come alive.

This is where you will come to receive, release, relax, rejuvenate.

Once you have chosen your safe place – decide how you arrive there. Do you walk, drive, fly – do you open a gate, a door, pass through an archway, are you beamed down or perhaps you entre through a large knot in the trunk of a tree.

Consistency is key. Each time you entre the same way and when you leave, you have an exit that is different from your entrance. For instance if it is at a beach, you entre over a sand dune and upon exiting, you walk down the beach and leave over another sand dune. This symbolizes the beginning of the meditation and the ending. Consistency allows for the energy to know that you are meditating. It can then be of assistance in sending you information, direction, solutions, a fresh perspective or healing.

Once you have arrived, allow your senses to take in your surroundings. What do you see, smell, hear, touch. Take it all in – breathe it all in. Every time you visit there will be more and more to notice – to be aware of. While you are there if your mind wanders back to your life of tasks to complete, worries, concerns – stop and come back to your place and pick up where you left off. Back to how the sand feels under your feet, the smell of the salt air, the breeze blowing through your hair.

Begin with five minutes and increase each time. Starting with committing to a brief period of time keeps you from sabotaging your efforts. You take the first step, be open to possibilities and Life will help you. Do your part and Life will be there for you. The phone won’t ring, the dogs won’t bark, no one will need you, the uninterrupted time required will present itself.

Sit while meditating. Have your feet on the floor for grounding, palms of your hands open for receiving, eyes closed. Lying down for many means dozing off and the crossing of yours arms is a way to shut out what you are saying you would like to attract.

At the end of your meditation, give thanks.

Have a notebook handy to jot down what you have received.

There are times though where the visit to your safe place will simply be to relax, to slow your energy down. There will be times where it may be for downloading – letting all the thoughts run through you and out of you.

Allow for Life to assist, to direct you in what you need at this time.

Your safe place may change over time. You may find that you begin with the usual format of walking over the sand dune toward the beach and all of a sudden you look around and you are in a garden and to your right is a bench for you to sit on. Don’t fight it. This can be a way of symbolizing that you are moving into a new phase of growth and are ready for Life to present you with information, or a new challenge. Let it be and enjoy.

Prayer: Unity Church, Prayer of Protection written by; James Dillet Freeman, during World War II
Photo: Van Dusen Botanical Garden, The Laburnum Walk by; Sharon Cooke 2012