Grounded Growth

1. Grounding: Just pause. Stand or sit in your space, your garden or your indoor plant corner, whatever it is. Close your eyes. Breathe. Feel that breath going in, coming out. Just you and the air. Feel the ground beneath you, how it holds you. You’re here, part of this big, beautiful puzzle.

2. Sensory Engagement: Open your eyes. Look at your plants, your little patch of green. The way the leaves twist and turn, the grains of soil each unique and necessary. Listen to the whispers of nature, touch the roughness of the bark or the softness of a petal, smell the raw scent of earth or the sweet aroma of blossoms. It’s all there, for you.

3. Short Meditation: Here’s a simple meditation you can do right in your garden or before you step outside. Find a comfortable spot to sit. It could be on a bench, a stone, or even the ground—wherever you feel most at ease. Close your eyes, and for a few moments, just listen. Tune into the sounds around you—the chirping of birds, the rustle of leaves, the distant hum of life. Feel the air on your skin, notice any scents that float by. This practice helps you connect with the here and now, grounding you in the present moment.

4. Tending with Intention: Now, get your hands dirty. Dig, plant, water, prune, whatever needs doing. But don’t rush it. Feel every movement, every moment. You’re not just doing a job. You’re caring, you’re nurturing.

5. Planting as an Act of Continuation: As you push a seed or a baby plant into the soil, understand that this is life doing what it does best – moving forward. Each new plant isn’t just a symbol, it’s proof of life’s insistence to keep on keeping on.

6. Witnessing Growth: Every day, give yourself a few moments with your green companions. Notice the tiny ways they change, the new leaf unfurling, the seedling inching upwards. You’re part of this, part of their life dance.

7. Reflection: When you’re done for the day, don’t just move on. Sit back. Think about what you felt while you were tending your plants, how you feel now. Catch your breath, and let a little thank you hang in the air. For the soil, the plants, for your hands that help them grow.

Take it at your pace, in your style. It’s about being here, present and honest, with yourself and with your garden.

I Kneel Before Earth


my rendition of ‘I kneel before earth’:

From my AudioBook “Through Grief’s Tender Heart”

get it here

I kneel before earth, my hands cradling the immense potential that slumbers within a single seed. Here, on this humble stage of soil and green, the ordinary act of gardening becomes an intimate dance with life itself, a profound form of meditation that gently guides me toward a deeper understanding of my place in this grand show of existence.

Barefoot, my toes curled in the cool soil, I feel a sacred connection unfolding, a thread that weaves me into the greater existence. The rhythm of the earth pulses through me, resonating in sync with my heartbeat. I am an active participant in a greater, beautiful, universal exchange: each inhalation a quiet thank you for the air gifted by the trees, each exhalation a humble offering to the plants reaching for the sky around me.

As I plunge my hands into the rich black soil, I sense the deep reservoir of life beneath me. It’s as though I am gently tapping into a chronicle of existence that has been quietly inscribed by the countless organisms that have called this earth home. In this precious moment, I am feeling the profound interconnectedness of life.

Every seed that slips from my hand into the welcoming earth is an act of faith, trust, and hope. It is a soft-spoken dialogue between me and the earth, a promise of life to come, and an affirmation of life’s tenacity. With each seed, I am not merely planting potential plants, but also cultivating resilience, nurturing hope, and sprouting dreams.

When I close my eyes and tune into the heartbeat of the garden, I can hear the earth’s whispers carried on the wind and the harmonious melody of growth echoing from every bud. I feel intimately tethered to this vibrant, perpetually unfolding narrative of life, a testament to existence’s incredible persistence.

In the heart of the garden, a serenity envelops me. Surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves, the intermittent melody of birdsong, and the rhythmic hum of life, my thoughts gradually quiet. Worries lose their weight, and in the face of life’s simple, undeniable continuity, my heart finds peace.

With every act of gardening, be it turning the soil or watering the plants, I am engaged in a silent mantra, a mindful repetition that roots me in the present and cultivates an inner garden of tranquillity. This is my meditation, my refuge. In tending the earth, I am also tending to myself, learning to weather life’s storms and blossom in its sunlight.

Gardening, to me, is much more than a pastime. It is a tangible form of meditation, an intimate communion with life, a serene sanctuary where the simple act of sowing seeds becomes a means of cultivating inner peace. It is here, in the garden, where I am most grounded, most connected, and most alive. In the gentle rhythm of growth and the sacred silence of the soil, I find my meditation and my home.


my rendition ofTending the Self:


From my AudioBook “Through Grief’s Tender Heart”

get it here

Tending the Self

In the quiet refuge of the garden, 
bathed in sunbeam’s glow
and rain’s gentle kiss, 
I kneel, 
hands cradling a seed, 
a microcosm of life in a speck,
awed by the promise that patience will perfect.
Bare feet on the soil—a sacred tangible link,
connecting my soul with the world’s pulse, 
my hands—gentle keepers of life’s spark,
the rhythm of the earth pulsing in my heart.
Digging into the soil, 
cool, moist and deeply profound, 
where ancient secrets quietly sleep, 
with each breath, a shared exchange, 
air, life, and love, in an endless range.
Cradling a seed, 
I’m holding hope, 
planting dreams, 
learning to cope, 
mastering the art of the tightrope,
a soft whisper to the patient earth, 
a silent prayer of rebirth.
Eyes closed, 
heart open wide, 
sensing life on the rising tide, 
welcoming the ride,
in stillness, hear the harmony 
of wind, of life, of a growing tree.
Life flourishes in the soil’s embrace, 
unfolds in its gentle cradle 
each seed’s journey is a delicate race, 
a tender fable,
a mirror of our shared existence, 
a testament to life’s persistence.
In the cradle of the earth, 
I find peace, 
my worries soften, 
my thoughts cease…
I am a thread in the splendid weave,
in the garden’s wisdom, 
I truly perceive.
Every seed planted – a silent mantra, 
every bud – a nascent sutra, 
in the heart of the garden 
I am free, 
in a sanctuary where boundaries cease to be.

(2019 © Julia Delaney)


A Profound Sense of Connection


my rendition ofA Profound Sense of Connection




From my AudioBook “Through Grief’s Tender Heart”

get it here

Let’s take a step beyond the poetry, the metaphor, and me, pouring out emotions. Let’s talk about in more tangible, dirt-under-your-fingernails experience of gardening. There is a rhythm to it, a steady beat that exists in the rustling of the leaves, the buzzing of the bees, the falling of the rain. But let’s look deeper. You see, there’s a form of meditation hidden within the folds of gardening. Let’s call it Mindful Gardening Meditation, if you will.

Isn’t it remarkable how the act of gardening invites you to be wholly present? There’s something about the feel of the soil against your hands, the smell of fresh earth and plants, the sight of colorful flowers and lush green leaves. The gentle sound of leaves dancing with the wind. It’s an immersive sensory experience that pulls you into the present moment, embodying the essence of mindfulness.

Gardening is our way of shaking hands with nature. I step into the garden, leaving the walls and screens behind, and become a part of the natural world. There’s a calming, grounding effect in this. It wraps around you, gently encouraging a sense of peace and tranquility akin to the stillness we find in meditation.

Now, plants aren’t fans of the rush. You can’t speed-grow a flower or a tree. They move at their own pace, teaching us patience and appreciation for the slow unfurling of life. In a world that’s often running at full speed, gardening is a gentle reminder of the beauty in gradual growth.

Perhaps you’ve felt it – the quiet joy, the subtle lifting of spirits that comes with time spent in the garden. This therapeutic effect, recognized and affirmed by numerous studies, resonates with the calm and clarity we often find in the quiet space of meditation.

In the garden, I cultivate more than just plants. I nurture care, patience, and persistence – qualities that resonate with the compassionate awareness fostered in meditation. Because, as you care for each plant, guiding it from seed to bloom, you practice understanding and patience. This cultivates a tangible empathy that reminds us of our interdependence with all living things.

This practice of care expands our capacity for compassion. Each moment spent in the garden helps us slow down, become more present, and opens our hearts to deeper feelings of compassion and connection. Just as the garden grows, so does our understanding and empathy towards all forms of life.

Though sitting quietly and breathing might seem worlds away from turning the soil and planting seeds, these two practices are rooted in the same values. Both gardening and meditation offer pathways to mindfulness, tranquility, patience, and a profound sense of connection. The focus of that connection may differ – inward to the self in meditation, outward to the natural world in gardening – but both practices foster a beautiful, compassionate understanding of the intricate dance of life.


my rendition ofGrounded :


From my AudioBook “Through Grief’s Tender Heart”

get it here


In the cradle of nature, a sanctuary lies,
an open canvas under the sprawling skies;
Here, between soil and soul,
is where grounded growth quietly ties.

Each seed I sow, each root that takes hold,
is a mindful whisper, a story told,
of loss and of love, of growth and decay,
in the garden’s embrace, I lose my way…

Breathe in,
breathe out,
kneel in the dirt,
planting my hopes,
healing the hurt,
with each caress of the gentle wind,
the boundaries blur,
the Self is thinned.

A sprout breaks free, reaching for the light,
a testament to resilience, bursting through the night,
in its silent growth, a mirror I see,
of my way, my growth, the essence of me.

With the rhythm of nature, my heart aligns,
in its comforting embrace, my spirit shines.

Grounded growth is an intimate dance,
a meditation,
a chance for a silent romance.
From the garden’s heart, lessons unfold,
in each leaf, in each root, wisdom is told.

To be present,
to nurture,
to be,
in this dance with the soil,
I find me.

(2018 © Julia Delaney)


Be Alive 🌱
Love ❤️, Julia

Healing through Loss


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