16 November 2005
No man is an island, but one woman is an allotment, apparently
In my work meaning and symbolism are everything. We consider people’s relationship with their external world to reflect something of their inner world and so the internal experience can be understood through the metaphor of the external. Still with me?
Well, for example, a person who accidentally drops a plate that shatters might unconsciously be communicating a sense of feeling shattered into a thousand pieces inside. This might make sense if someone breaks the plate shortly after a bereavment, say. At another time, it might just mean they’re a bit clumsy (sometimes a cigar is just a cigar!). It all depends on the context and the meaning to that individual.
Depending on your viewpoint this might seem either blindingly obvious or a bit silly and up its own arse, but this is the bread and butter of my work. I think in this way everyday. Not only about the people I work with, but also about my own life (navel gazing is part of the territory…). So you would think that I would have worked out before now what it really means that I’m spending so little time down at the allotment, and that my so-called allotment blog is filled with just about anything but news about the plot.
Yes, this is because the weather has been bad. Yes, it’s because the nights are drawing in. Yes, it’s also because I’ve been monumentally busy. All true. But there’s more going on here than that (trust me, this cigar is not just a cigar!).
Evidently I need some TLC.
Time spent at the allotment is, of course, therapeutic of itself - the fresh air, the wildlife, the way you’re forced to move at an altogether slower pace. But spending time tending the plot is also important because it represents time tending to me. There is a part of me that needs regular care, attention, maintenance and replenishment if it is going to thrive and flourish. My allotment lies neglected because I have been neglecting that part of me.
So what am I going to do about it? Well, I’m starting by wrapping up warm and having a go at tidying up the garden, which should help me with my own emotional composting. Failing that, I might have to hire some experts to come and do the digging for me - metaphorically speaking!
Filed under: Fallow — Clare @ 1:46 pm
I too am full of such good intentions - being at one with the earth - being fulfilled by the touching of soil (albeit sodden sods) but there is something about being outside. I hide in the greenhouse (what does that say about me) but is now empty and I can be seen (even wearing the famous green jumper as camoflage - spelling at an all time low). I tell everyone I have an allotment yet who does all the hard graft? I do the buying of stuff and the starting of stuff but the main work is carried out by the lovely squire of Holyrood (and a dashing vision he is in his wellies) but I take the credit. Its naughty of me. I love the idea of being self sufficient - being retired (not yet for a long time my dear so my employer informs me) and living this happy tranquil life of ruddy complextion eating mostly courgettes and beans (the only bumper crops we get other than weeds) and (round in a circle) being at one with the earth. Pah! Fat chance.
(16.11.05 @ 2:18 pm)
I’m the same - I love the idea, but I love the sitting by the fire writing about it maybe a little more. I don’t know. Life’s odd like that. I love taking photos but I’m not out there all the time doing so - I don’t go that extra mile of getting up at 4am for the perfect sunrise and it is these ‘extra miles’ that make the difference. I envy people who ‘just do’ stuff, but I’m not disciplined or motivated to ‘just do’ stuff myself so I prevaricate and dress the edges – the old ‘tidy the desk before doing any work’ routine.
Blimey. See what you’ve done now? You’ve bummed two of us out! Is this some sort of twisted work creation scheme on your part?
(16.11.05 @ 3:28 pm)
Joolz - welcome to P’Soup and thank you for your comments. It’s always good when visitors make themselves known. If they say charming things about the blog too well then that’s just dandy - thank you.
Head Burro - (Head Burro? Whatever happened to David? Hark at you all high and mighty! You don’t have to use your posh telephone voice here you know!
) Twisted work creation scheme? Do I sound like I’m looking for more work???
(16.11.05 @ 6:51 pm)
Ahem. ‘Ay-low and what does one do? Rally? How very interesting.
That’s my telephone voice - it frightens the bailiffs off, you see.
(17.11.05 @ 10:57 am)
I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes my plot is a way for me to stay connected with myself and the world around me in a simple and honest way. There’s nothing like muddy hands and aching muscles to remind you that you’re still living and breathing!
But at other times, when my head’s all wobbly, the mere thought of hauling my arse anywhere away from the comfy chair and kettle is too overwhelming to contemplate. I need these periods of isolation to deal with life sometimes (or at least hide from it until I feel strong enough), and as a result everything else gets put on the back burner.
Fortunately the plot doesn’t seem to mind too much, and the weeds help to protect the soil during my absences and provide a welcome addition to the compost heap!
(17.11.05 @ 11:05 am)
I know what you are saying bean - but it is at those wobbly times you mention that are the best reasons to get out in the fresh air up your lottie and you’d come back ‘flying’
(21.11.05 @ 7:46 pm)
Once I start feeling the allotment is getting away from me/not worth the time & effort/too hard etc etc it just grows and grows until I actually get down there and do something about it - and then I remember what it’s all about.
For me I think deep down working at the allotment symbolises caring for the family, good things on the table, great smells in the kitchen, shared meals with friends having a good laugh. It makes a meal into much more of a personal, special thing (for me)when allotment produce is involved. There are several traditions as far as food goes that we look forward to each year using seasonal veg (ie Jerusalem Artichokes with Xmas dinner & Purple Sprouting in the Spring). I also like not being completely reliant on huge businesses with no principles but profit for the food we eat.
If I’m neglecting the allotment I do feel like you that it has wider implications - but really I don’t know what I would do without it!
(24.11.05 @ 10:24 am)