My neighbor offered encouragement when I told her my family has rented a community garden this year with three other families.
“We’ve never planted a large garden before,” I said. “We’re calling ourselves The Green Thumbs.”
“You are going to be fulfilled,” my neighbor said, sounding like a yoga instructor on the first day of class.
I thought about what she said when I fell over into a kind of down dog split while planting tomatoes and found myself stretched over rows in a sort of combination Warrior II then lunge pose to spread fertilizer.
While watering the plants with my heavy green watering can, my arms reached down and my back stayed straight into a slight half forward bend pose over lettuce, beets and broccoli.
“What are we trying to grow?” asked my son, who had forgotten what plants we put into the ground.
“Fulfillment,” I answered, standing up tall into a makeshift mountain pose. “We’re trying to grow fulfillment.”
He just looked at me.
All I could add was “Namaste.”