Letter from My Garden

There was a time, in the 1970s, when our dear friend, the late Alain Gandy, wrote a much-loved column in "Képi Blanc" entitled "Letter from Elsewhere." Later, among those writing on the "Legionnaire-Officers" blog, Antoine Marquet, in a way, took up the mantle with his "Letter from Elsewhere," written from his residence in Portugal, the country of his origins and his new home in Lisbon. For my part, inspiration often strikes me when I find myself alone in my garden, letting my thoughts wander. So, I gladly offer this "Letter from My Garden," a way for me to talk about this and that, about what comes to mind and that I wish to share.

I remember my compulsory school readings from my early childhood: the writings of Voltaire, who asserted that "a garden is not simply a plot of land, but that it is essential to understand that cultivating one's garden is a metaphor, a rich and complex symbol...". Thus, cultivating one's garden meant turning to concrete, pragmatic action, far removed from abstract speculations and partisan ideologies in a world rife with misfortune. Leibniz, on the other hand, adopted an optimistic view, declaring his generous opinions, full of good intentions: "All is for the best in the best of all possible worlds..."—a harsh test where action becomes a refuge, a means, like any other, of finding, despite everything, a form of meaning, however questionable it may be in light of what the world offers us today.

In fact, cultivating one's garden can be an immersion in reality, insofar as it requires relinquishing illusions and grand, promising pronouncements, and thus making the realistic choice of taking responsibility for one's destiny. The garden then becomes a circle of life, of relationships and projects; tending a garden is tending to oneself, one's loved ones, and one's acquaintances. In short, it's a form of small, privileged happiness, mirroring what many poor people in various countries do, without which they would not survive.

However, in my view, this metaphor goes further; it questions our relationship with our environment. It's also about learning to live with and respect the laws and rhythms of nature. A lesson in humility, a reminder that humankind is not the master, that we are but one element among many in the vast ecosystem of life.

One thing is clear: in my garden, I distance myself from the turmoil of the world as it is, with its various current conflicts, though I cannot ignore them. It is a space of freedom where my individuality finds expression, a powerful antidote to the disappointments and absurdities that abound in a world gone mad.

In conclusion, I would say that my garden invites me to reflect on time. Cultivating one's garden means embracing a unique temporality, paced by the cycles of nature, by the growth of plants that follow the seasons. It is an invitation to slow down, to take the time to live, to contemplate, to savor each moment. In our society where everything moves too fast and where the ephemeral nature of a fragile humanity is on full display, this sanctuary is a privilege that everyone should be able to possess, especially when the time comes for a well-deserved retirement.
See you soon…