"Hmmm," Peter said. "Let's assume, just for a moment, that the old gardener is correct in saying that all our personal realities are derived from the way we think. This would mean that many of the entities we talk about in therapy, such as the ego, the id and so forth, would also be made up entirely from our personal thinking. If this were so, it would revolutionize many of the diagnoses we therapists now assign to people."
Janet exclaimed, "Wow! This discussion really has the wheels in my head spinning. But if people could transcend their past more easily, it certainly would provide more hope for a lot of our patients. The big question is, What is it exactly that helps your patients change their thinking?"
"I'm not sure," I admitted. "But I definitely think it's time to look for that old gardener again!"
Chapter 4
My Colleagues Meet the Gardener
The following day, I asked the concierge if an old gardener named Andy was still employed at the hotel.
"Oh, yes! He still works here," she said. "As a matter of fact, I just saw him a few minutes ago."
"Thank you," I replied. "That's all I wanted to know."
Later that afternoon, my colleagues and I were taking a break from the various lectures. Some of the speakers had been truly boring, and our heads were swimming with seemingly endless statistics and details from case studies.
Peter suggested that the four of us go out into the garden to get a breath of fresh air and try to sweep out the cobwebs that had gathered while we attended the lectures. As we strolled through the grounds, he asked, "What did you think of that last speaker and her theories on maintaining a healthy marriage?"
"I couldn't believe she was for real," Janet said. "Sometimes I wonder where they dig up these speakers. She appeared absolutely lifeless, and her ideas were as stale as last week's bread. Did you know she has been divorced three times and is now going through her fourth? It is inconceivable to me that a person with her background can presume to speak about healthy marriages. I sure wouldn't want any advice from her about my marriage if it were in trouble. As a matter of fact, she scares me. You know, at times I wonder why, with our training, many of us can't get hold of our own lives or marriages. How can we possibly be expected to help others with their lives if we can't help ourselves?"
Tom chuckled joylessly. "Think of it this way, Janet," he said. "If you went to see that speaker for help, you would be getting an expert on marriage, divorce and the wedding ceremony—all rolled into one appointment." Janet, however, failed to see the funny side of Tom's sarcastic remark, and she let him know it in no uncertain terms.
I told my friends that I had decided to seek out the gardener with the intent of having a little chat with him. Janet asked if she could tag along, saying that she found my story intriguing; the others came along, claiming they had nothing better to do. We asked a passing staff member if she knew the gardener's whereabouts, and she gave us directions to the fountain, saying she thought Andy was working there.
Sure enough, we found the old gardener working on his lawn near the fountain. On approaching him I reintroduced myself, then introduced the others. "You probably don't remember me, Andy," I elaborated, "but a little over a year ago I met and talked with you while I was attending a conference here."
"Oh, yes! I remember you," the gardener said with a smile. "You're the doctor from Denver."
"Man! You have a good memory. I never thought you'd remember me. I've been telling my associates about our conversations, when you told me what I should be looking for is the connection between Mind, Consciousness and Thought. Do you remember? You suggested that I should look very closely and see how they are connected to the way we see life and react to it?"
"Can't say that I do," Andy replied. "But it certainly sounds like me."
I continued, my words pouring out in an excited torrent, "I also remember that you said something to the effect that our thoughts have a great bearing on the quality of our lives. I'm not saying I understand what you were talking about—I barely remember much of our conversation! But I do remember you said something like, 'Hanging on to old negative memories is psychological suicide.'"
"I'm afraid, doctor, you have a better memory than I do," the old gardener replied. "I can't remember saying those exact words, but it's definitely something I might say."
I told him that the gist of our conversations had stayed with me, and that his suggestions had changed the way I looked at life and the way I talked to my clients. "To be truthful with you, Andy, at first it was baffling to me when some of my patients started to change simply because I had talked about their minds and thoughts having a direct link to their problems. Then, as time went by, I myself gradually started to understand how our thoughts definitely do have a direct link to our outlook on life. But to this day, I still have many nagging, unanswered questions about how it works."
I then related Mrs. Taylor's remarkable story and asked him if such results made any sense to him.
Peter, Tom and I sat in silence, while Janet gently splashed the waters of the fountain, waiting for his reply.
Finally the old gardener said, "It's fine weather for this time of year. You're lucky—quite often it rains cats and dogs in June. But I guess we can't complain about good weather, now can we?" Picking a flower from the border by the pool, the gardener observed that there was a similarity between a flower and one's mind, saying, "If a flower gets good care and lots of love, it should grow strong and healthy. On the other hand, if you give a flower too much manure, it will be destroyed. Same with your mind—if you give it too much manure, you will destroy it."
Completely baffled by his response, I said, "I don't quite understand the correlation between giving a flower too much manure and nurturing your mind."
Andy winked. "You think about it for a while, Eric. I'm sure it will come to you." Both Peter and Janet smiled—seemingly they got the picture.
Still grinning at his own witticism, the old gardener casually remarked that many people fail to realize that life is a spiritual journey.
We were all somewhat surprised by the gardener's statement because it seemed to introduce an abrupt change in the direction of the conversation. Finally, Tom asked the gardener to explain what he meant.
The old gardener fumbled in his pocket, looking for his spectacles, while we sat in anticipation, wondering how he would reply. "Darn things! I can never remember where I put them. What was the question again?"
Impatiently, Tom repeated, "What do you mean by 'life is a spiritual journey'?"
"Oh, I remember now," Andy said. "I left them in my jacket pocket."
Janet didn't even try to hide her amusement at Tom's obvious frustration as we all waited for the old gardener to reply to his question.
Finally Andy said, "Right! Now then, what I meant to say is,
Life is an illusionary, spiritual
journey confined within
the boundaries of time,
space and matter."
"Wait a minute," Peter complained. "Now you really have me confused. What has all this got to do with psychology?"
"Everything!" The gardener answered. "Don't you know? This world we live in is merely a psychological phenomenon."
Both Janet and I burst into peals of laughter at the bewildered look on Peter's face as he tried to grasp the meaning behind the old gardener's succinct reply. Tom merely looked away and shook his head in disgust.
"I'm afraid I just don't follow your line of reasoning," Peter finally responded.
Andy looked straight into Peter's eyes. "Are you sure you want me to try to explain my ideas?" he asked. "After all, I'm untrained in your field and I don't want to cause any ill feelings because of our different opinions."