In the 50’s and 60’s, Australia had not undergone any individuation. England was still described by many European Australians as ‘Home’. If somebody was going to England for a holiday, it may be described as going “HOME”, even though they may never have been to Mother England in their life.
Nobody would admit to having come from convict stock. So much shame was carried about by not having a cultural identity, that all things English were idealised, like all Co-Dependent relationships. The infant island continent denied the authentic self in order to validate the dysfunctional parent, who disavowed its shame and shipped it out to the colonies. The manner of speech and architecture was anglicised, landscape art was depicted with English foliage. Even gardens were planted by the needy child in a desperate attempt to emulate the distant parent.
In the small town where I was born, people desperately tried to grow English gardens of roses, daffodils, daises, tulips and so on, with the majority having huge failures due to the extreme heat and sparse rainfall.
The few gardens that flourished with the foreign flora, had devoted attendees who massaged and saturated the beds into the late evenings, away from the shameless leer of the relentless sun. They dare not divert their attention away for a break or weekend, in order to fulfil their own parched needs as the incompatible plants and environment would turn to dust.
During the 80’s the juvenile island continent became an adolescent and with the somewhat clumsiness of an emerging shameless teen, a pride erupted about being of convict stock or even native born, just like bristles on a smooth chin or exploding acne.
From the collective conscious arose, a new idea, that perhaps native plants could be an authentic expression of the new found patriotism. Waratahs, bottle brushes, wattles and other acacias appeared in a natural expression in the residential gardens, requiring little maintenance and attracting the native birds that complemented the mutual partnership.
In times of drought they would never disappear, but would sustain and endure in their own essence, should a little extra water be added the native plants would express themselves with more flowering, but very rarely did they die off. It was a complementary partnership where naturally compatible native plants enhanced the life of the Gardener, as he was able to enjoy their shade without spending all his time trying to keep them alive in an artificial environment.
So it is with relationships; when natural compatibility can thrive without constant fear of keeping the other person alive, allowing them to put down their own roots and be naturally self sustaining. With the changing seasons there will be varying levels of growth and indeed a little shrivelling will occur only to be followed by growth spurts, this is the way of nature, life…ing seasons happen.
Each person needs to soak up their own nutrients. As the trunk expands, the bark falls off, only to be turned into more nutrient and thus responsible for their own growth. The deeper the roots the more stable the plant; look deep, grow high, just don’t steal all the sunlight. So if it is all consuming and requires so much artificial fertiliser maybe it’s time to put down the tools, turn the attention back on the relationship with yourself.
The capacity to be alone is the capacity to love. It may look paradoxical to you, but it’s not. It is an existential truth: only those people who are capable of being alone are capable of love, of sharing, of going into the deepest core of another person without possessing the other, without becoming dependent on the other, without reducing the other to a thing, and without becoming addicted to the other. They allow the other absolute freedom, because they know that if the other leaves, they will be as happy as they are now. Their happiness cannot be taken by the other, because it is not given by the other.Osho