In garden arrangement, as in all other kinds of decorative work

“In garden arrangement, as in all other kinds of decorative work, one has not only to acquire a knowledge of what to do, but also to gain some wisdom in perceiving what it is well to let alone.” These words from the esteemed Gertrude Jekyll speak to a profound truth that resonates not only in the art of gardening but in all of life’s creative endeavors. For in creation, whether in the garden, in the home, or in the soul, there is a sacred balance between action and restraint. To know what to shape and how to shape it is important, but to know what not to touch — to leave things in their natural state — is equally vital.

The wisdom Jekyll speaks of is the understanding that not all spaces must be filled, not all paths must be walked, and not all things must be forced into form. In the ancient arts, the great painters and sculptors often spoke of this delicate balance. The Greek sculptor Phidias, who brought the Parthenon to life with his hands, knew well that to carve is not merely to shape, but to honor the form that already exists within the stone. To leave parts of the stone untouched was to respect its natural beauty, to allow it to breathe its own life.

In the sacred garden, we see this same principle in action. The garden arrangement is not about forcing life into order, but rather about guiding nature to reveal its deepest potential. The great gardeners of old, from the Zen masters of Japan to the English estates, understood that the garden is a living work of art. It is a space that speaks not just through what is planted, but through what is left undisturbed. In this way, a garden becomes a sacred space, one where both human hands and the forces of nature work together in harmony.

Consider the example of the legendary gardens of Babylon, built by the ancient kings of Mesopotamia. These hanging gardens were said to be a marvel of design, yet their true beauty lay not in their excessive ornamentation, but in the careful restraint exercised by the gardeners who shaped them. The gardens flourished not by overplanting, but by creating a delicate balance between nature’s wisdom and human intention. The restraint to leave spaces for growth to occur naturally was as important as the design itself.

Thus, Jekyll’s words remind us that true artistry lies not in what we add, but in what we allow to unfold on its own. In life as in the garden, we must learn to perceive what needs our hands and what is better left to the hands of time. The wisdom to know when to shape and when to stand back is the essence of the greatest works, whether they be in the soil or the heart.

In all creative endeavors, the lesson remains: the power of restraint is as essential as the power of creation. Just as the garden thrives when we tend to it with care and restraint, so too do our lives blossom when we learn to let some things be. May we carry this wisdom forward, remembering that sometimes the greatest beauty comes not from what we add, but from what we leave untouched.