I’m not sure when I started to believe in the existence of the Soul. I often had conversations with things and people who were not always physically there. It was natural for me to have a discussion with a single rose, a mango tree and the crow that perched on the wire connecting the streetlamps. My childhood was full of these silent conversations. I learned that I could listen, watch, and be engaged all in the same moment. Thoughts, unspoken words and the feelings of others were accessible to me. I also noticed that I would become aware of events before they occurred. It was many years before I discovered that not everyone had these same gifts, and what was natural for me, was extraordinary for others. I had recognized there was an invisible link between everything, and yet, knew each thing was separate.
Our gardener knew this too. He would walk into the garden with a smile and greet the plants and trees he tended to. He inspected the plants, checked the soil and stroked the leaves and petals. He watched carefully for changes and sometimes stared at the sky looking for signs. He would mumble questions and answer them himself. Occasionally he disciplined his green charges. I watched him and would try to enter his world and mimic his inner communication. Most of the time I could tap into his mind and pick up on his silent conversations.
I found him gentle and humorous and I loved the fact that he had very little stimuli from outside. He was in control from within. I fell in love with the lifestyle that was inwardly inspired. With neither a visible agenda nor a philosophy, the garden thrived and so did the gardener.