As a child, I was fascinated by the flower of the lantana plant. A single flower is composed of about 20 mini flowers. They are colour graded on their perfectly spaced position onto a semi-spherical base of long radius. Also, a hibiscus flower has its reproduction organs exposed, you can transfer the pollen from the yellow-tipped buds to the center, which is bright red, or you could just watch an insect carry it on its back. Even if not officially mentioned on science books, flower contemplation by children is one of the most effective pollination mechanisms that exists.
It is common to hear how children live in the present, if only we could be more like them. How long has it been since I studied a lantana flower?. I have to tell you that the last lantana plant was eradicated from our garden about 2 years ago, because lantana is nothing but a weed, an introduced species that will take over your garden if you let it.
I have a good friend who tells me that "weeds are plants we are prejudiced against". If you think about it, a weed is a tenacious, opportunistic, life embracing being. But in the garden, we want them out, favouring the fragile, the beautiful, the rare, maybe with the purpose of controlling a small parcel of our lives that is likely to give us a predictable result if we work hard enough at it.
I wish a could keep a garden. As I drive around my "garden proud" suburb, I admire the effort people put in, and the beautifully neat, tidy results they obtain. My garden is wild, once in a while I rake the leaves to make room for the children to play on the grass. Initially, I had planted flowers near the front gate but in time they died, as the soil is not so much soil, but sandstone, where only weeds seem to thrive.
The last time I contemplated a flower, it didn't take long before I realised that I had to do something else, be somewhere else. As adults, do we have the time to contemplate anything? With all the responsibilities we have, the people in our care, our work and our finance worries, I'm not sure we have the time, or simply what is required to gain insight into the formless: the feeling of untainted awe for simple things.
We are most likely to be blown away by complex, man made contraptions that would in most cases only reinforce our sense of self. I, in particular, feel the need to know how exactly I should be doing things. I like to know I do a good job. If I decide to give sometime to contemplation, is a little bit of contemplation enough? does it have to be quiet contemplation? or can I contemplate while I walk, while I talk, while I eat? could some one please give me instructions, so I know I have done it right and I can relax and enjoy the fruit of a job well done?
I had unexpected the fortune to study the perfection of nature in a Biomaterials course at university. Basically, we try to imitate the intrinsic characteristics of natural materials with our sooper dooper scientific advancements, and still fall short by miles. That's before we stop to mention the environmental damage we do to achieve results worth mentioning.
I get it. There is perfection in nature, whether there are weeds or not, it is sublime. It challenge us, it nurtures us, and it overwhelms us, as it is unstoppable. We can fight it, but by doing so, we only fight ourselves, as we are nature, with our own personal weeds against which we feel prejudiced.
"Show me a day when the world wasn't new"
Sister Barbara Hance (1928-1993)
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