Planting the Seeds
Meditation & Transcript
By Marisa Lopez
Welcome.
Feel your seat under you if you’re sitting.
The ground beneath you if you’re lying down.
Gently close your eyes or lower your gaze.
And breathe.
Inhale, counting to four.
Exhale, letting all the air out.
Again, deep, slow inhale.
And a long exhale.
Once more on your own time.
Arrive.
In this space.
Where you are safe.
Where you are with others like you. Others, who care.
The world needs us. But before we can be the change we want to see, we need to steady ourselves. Find our own strength. Ground.
Think about the ground you walk on.
Bare feet in the sand if you live by the sea.
Bare feet in the soil if you have a natural setting around you.
Bare feet on the floor.
Notice your feet in contact with the ground.
Imagine your feet are roots, reaching past the surface of things, seeking nourishment from the earth itself. Your body connected to the land. Rooted in nature. Growing stronger because you have a solid anchor.
The wind doesn’t blow you here and there. You are strong like a trunk.
Our strength comes from this connection to nature.
This connection to each other.
This connection to ourselves.
Now, ask yourself:
In what ways do I want to strengthen and grow?
What part of my life needs more nourishment?
Take this question with you as you walk into a garden.
Imagine you are holding a handful of seeds.
Slowly, you lower your body down and with your free hand, you dig into the ground.
Dirt under your fingernails.
The rich aroma of soil.
Breathe it in.
Fill your nose and lungs with the smell of cold, wet, earth.
Place your seeds — what you want to grow and nourish in your life — into the hole you have carved with your bare hands. Picture yourself gently covering those seeds with soil. Patting the mound of dirt. Water it if it feels dry.
Breathe in.
And out.
Time goes by and a sprout has emerged.
Bright green. Healthy. Upright. Resilient.
It is spring. Everywhere we look, new life is coming into being. Awakening.
Once-dead branches are popping with leaves. Flowers are blossoming. Bees are buzzing and taking in nectar. The sound of birds chirping. Early morning sunlight.
After rest, renewal.
Regrowth.
New beginnings.
Look at your sprout. Observe it. And ask yourself again:
What new beginning are you cultivating?
What part of your life will you spend more time nourishing – watering, paying attention to?
What seed might you plant today to bring more hope into this world?
How would you like to see your garden grow?
Picture whatever it is you have planted a week later.
In a month’s time.
A year from now.
What does it look like?
How is it growing?
What is it telling you?
How does it make you feel?
Breathe in that emotion.
That sense of ease.
Gratitude.
Slowly start to come back to this room.
Gently move your fingers.
Wiggle your toes.
And when you’re ready, open your eyes.
Look around the room.
We are all gardeners now.
Ready to begin anew.
Take a moment to sketch or write down what you planted in the soil.
How it grew.
And how that made you feel.