“Let us cultivate our garden.”
― Voltaire, Candide
I attended a provocative and refreshingly relevant production of “Native Gardens” by Karen Zacarias on Sunday at WaterTower Theatre in Addison, Texas. It was a modern take on the classic drawing-room comedy ― with a backyard twist. “Native Gardens” is a tightly orchestrated play about escalating conflict between two suburban couples who consider themselves “good neighbors.” However, their well-intentioned façades crumble when they begin to excavate the prickly, gnarly roots of ageism, racism, sexism and elitism ― all revealed in an emotionally charged explosion of their largely unconscious prejudices.
Zacarias and director David Lozano deftly capture the awkward challenges associated with communicating authentically and mindfully in an increasingly complex world. The crisp, pointed banter shines a bright light on the cultural and racial tensions people have such difficulty discussing. Ostensibly polite conversations turn instantly into arguments ― and hilarity, though uncomfortable, ensues.
The drama builds over a festering boundary violation (love the irony there). Tania, a young, pregnant New Mexico native pursuing her doctorate, attempts to “settle things” with Virginia, her stately new neighbor, who is an old-school Anglo feminist. Succumbing to her swelling rage as the plot thickens, Tania erupts, “You pushed all my buttons!” How accurate is that? But the truth is ― our buttons can only be pushed if we allow it.
And, that’s the message here. This high-def snapshot of suburban America reminded me of the conflict brewing in my own neighborhood association ― so often disintegrating into defensiveness and obstinate silence (without the guffaws).
The notion of “cultivating your garden” does apply here on several levels ― in this case, your native garden. In fact, way back in the olden days when I applied to college, I used that Voltaire quote, “Let us cultivate our garden” as a springboard for my essay. I can’t remember what I wrote back then in the last century ― painstakingly typing my cogent prose on a powder-blue Smith-Corona with Liquid Paper by my side. But I feel certain I was looking outside myself for the answers.
Now, I think the real garden to tend is inside. It’s the one we discover in those moments of solitude in the peace and quiet. And, it’s up to us to clear out all the weeds, roots and debris cluttering our inner landscapes, strangling our opportunities to bloom ― as individuals and communities.
So, take moment to listen to that still, soft inner voice ― the voice of compassion and kindness. It’s there. Mindfulness takes practice, but it’s the road to oneness and peace. Ask yourself, “Why am I feeling triggered?” “What is this about?” And the next time you go looking for the answer “out there” somewhere, you might try looking no further than your own backyard.