Dorene Fisher
REEL Writing - # 1
June 25, 2013
In a garden, time stands still. Coaxing unwanted weeds from between pea plants,
watering the thirsty ground, counting the blooms on a bean, tomato, or pepper plant; all of
these doings tame time. Discovery takes time in great helpings—there can be no constraints, no
denial of seconds. It requires unmeasured time to watch a bee move from bloom to bloom,
extracting nectar, not from the bloom as previously believed, but by piercing the neck of the
flower to achieve its feast. Time cannot be a factor when picking peas, pulling up carrots, beets,
or onions. A gardener must be willing to abandon “real” time when tending her garden. There is
really nothing more important than caring for the plants that feed more than just the body.
There is a sense of satisfaction that can be exacted from a well kept garden—a kind of pleasure
derived from creating straight rows of food, from knowing that each plant is well nourished—
loved, if you will—from welcoming each stage of growth from germination to fruiting. The
creation of beauty in the form of a bowl of warm strawberries just picked or a colander full of
Butter Crunch lettuce demands great quantities of boundless time. Fully realized beauty is not
sudden in a garden.
In so many ways, this is the journey of lifelong learning, as well. Yet, we live in a culture
that demands more and more of our time for things that are seemingly paramount to our
existence leaving little time for genuine learning, developing core truth, or creating beauty.
Teachers then have a greater responsibility to teach these principles than all the ages that have
gone before. We must not only lead the proverbial horses to the water, but we must
demonstrate how to drink. There is beauty in hearing a child’s laughter; beauty in seeing a smile
on the face of an elderly person needing a visitor; beauty in smelling the blooms of a soft, white
Dorene Fisher
REEL Writing - # 1
June 25, 2013
peony; beauty in tasting that just picked, sun warmed strawberry; and beauty in feeling sand in
your toes or holding the hand of a baby. A child who learns to recognize and appreciate beauty
will always be able to make time stand still for that which is truly important, and in so doing, he
will think more deeply, learn more soundly, and love more profoundly. He will learn to nourish,
feed, weed, and water the garden that is his “beauty full” life.
REVISION
In a garden, time stands still. Coaxing unwanted weeds from between pea plants,
watering the thirsty ground, counting the blooms on a bean, tomato, or pepper plant, knowing
what’s to come; all of these doings tame time. The process of discovery takes time in great
helpings—there can be no constraints, no denial of seconds. Unmeasured time is required to
watch a bee move from bloom to bloom, extracting nectar, not from the bloom as previously
believed, but by piercing the neck of the flower to achieve its feast. A gardener must be willing
to abandon “real” time when tending her garden. Time cannot be a factor when picking peas,
pulling up carrots, beets, or onions. There is really nothing more important than caring for the
plants that feed more than just the body. There is a sense of satisfaction that can be exacted
from a well kept garden—a kind of pleasure derived from creating straight rows of food, from
knowing that each plant is well nourished—loved, if you will—from welcoming each stage of
growth from germination to fruiting. The creation of beauty in the form of a bowl of warm
strawberries just picked or a colander full of Butter Crunch lettuce demands great quantities of
boundless time. Fully realized beauty is not sudden in a garden.
In so many ways, this is also the journey of lifelong learning. Yet, we live in a culture
that demands more and more of our time for mundane things that are seemingly paramount to
Dorene Fisher
REEL Writing - # 1
June 25, 2013
our existence leaving little time for genuine learning, developing core truth, or creating beauty.
Teachers then, more than all the ages that have gone before, have a greater responsibility to
teach these principles. We must not only lead the proverbial horses to the water, but we must
demonstrate how to drink. We must teach our students to love learning, to develop personal
truth, and to recognize the sparkling moments that rush past us every day. There is beauty in
hearing a child’s laughter; beauty in seeing a smile on the face of an elderly person needing a
visitor; beauty in smelling the blooms of a soft, white peony; beauty in tasting that just picked,
sun warmed strawberry; and beauty in feeling sand in your toes or holding the hand of a baby. A
child who learns to recognize and appreciate beauty will always be able to make time stand still
for the things which are truly important in life. In so doing, he will think more deeply, learn more
soundly, and love more profoundly. He will learn to nourish, feed, weed, and water the garden
that is his “beauty full” life.