Philosophers often declare that people can find their true path only by leaving the path they currently are on. Or, said another way, one must get lost before one is found. If so, then I'm in pretty good shape regarding my identity and my destiny, because I regularly get lost when I visit the MEMBG. In fact, I consider myself fortunate to love the garden and love getting lost in it.
Of course, this doesn't happen when I am on a docent-led tour of the garden. Then I can just follow along, secure in the knowledge that if I don't know where I am, the docent surely does. The tour experience with a docent can lead to a discussion on the art of leading and the art of following. But nothing can beat the dynamic art of getting lost.
My personal tour of the MEMBG begins at The Nest, the outdoor classroom in the northern end of the garden. So at least at the start I know where I am. The ginkgo tree (whose leaf serves as the logo on the volunteer gardener and docent badges) is the major landmark there, lending its shade and beauty to all who pass by or sit beneath it. From The Nest, I walk southeast to the waterfall, then along the stream, stopping to check out my turtle buddies who sun themselves at water's edge, on the rocks near the bridge. I then continue eastward either along a path or up the paved road to the desert section. All of this is done strictly from memory.
What isn't from memory is where to go from there. The only certainty is that if I keep walking I will eventually run across my other garden favorites: the Torrey pine, the bamboo forest, the ferns in the Hawaiian section, the bottle shaped tree, the koi pond near the cricket bench, and the "lazy" trees that recline along the ground.
I experience great delight when I march down one path in search of a particular plant or tree only to be surprised at the appearance of a different plant or tree that I thought was located somewhere else. It is like unexpectedly running into a dear friend at the market, when I was sure he would be at the gym at that time. When this occurs, for an amazing moment everything seems to stop, and I feel bathed in a warm glow.
When I'm truly in the flow of the art of getting lost, this type of joyful experience can be repeated over and over. I find this particularly so in the Mildred E. Mathias Botanical Garden, where direct observation of nature is not only welcomed but also strongly encouraged. This allows me to practice "beginners mind," where everything I see, feel, hear, and smell is encountered as if for the first time. Ahhhh, how wonderful.
CAROL FELIXSON, Docent and Communications Coordinator
P.S. Occasionally, when I prefer to know where I am throughout my visit to the MEMBG, I make use of a printed walking guide of the garden, which includes a map with brief descriptions and key sections highlighted. If you would like a copy of this guide, call me at (310) 206-3887, or email me at cfelixso@ucla.edu.