The Twelve Gifts from the Garden . Charlene Costanzo
to comprehend it myself.
I felt strongly that all children, not just my own, deserve to hear that they are worthy and gifted. I wanted to see The Twelve Gifts of Birth published. With high hopes, I prepared submission packages. After the twentieth rejection, I decided to give up on selling The Twelve Gifts of Birth to an established publisher. I resolved to publish it myself—someday. For years “someday” was a vague, elusive time in the future. But every once in a while, I’d feel a push forward. In 1995, I became increasingly disturbed by news stories of abused children. I realized that the message of The Twelve Gifts of Birth held potential to help in a small way, and my resolve strengthened. But still I said, someday.
A year later, sitting quietly in my mom’s hospital room one afternoon, a month before she died, I heard a voice within me declare What you do with your time and talent is critically important. Pay attention. I knew immediately what the admonition to pay attention meant. It was time to embrace “someday” and act upon what was calling me—my book.
During the entire time I was preparing The Twelve Gifts of Birth for publication, I experienced firsthand that miracles do happen when we follow our bliss in the spirit of service. When work is a labor of love, doors open. That was a premise and a promise that I had heard from many sources. But, although I believed it, never before had I acted as if it were true.
It took a year and half of full-time work and a substantial amount of money—more than I had saved for this purpose—to bring the richly illustrated gift book into reality. In unexpected and surprising ways, all the resources that I needed along the way, financial and otherwise, appeared in perfect time. There were times when the steps I took seemed wrong or unnecessary, but later I saw how each “false” step became a stepping-stone.
The Twelve Gifts of Birth was released in September 1998. I had anticipated that the book would do well, but the market’s response surpassed my expectations. Some readers shared how the book affected them. And they weren’t just parents of young children. The first letter I received said, “I am seventy-two years old and have spent years of my life in therapy. I grew up believing that I was worthy only if I accomplished my goals and made a lot of money. My mind and heart have been healed by these very twelve gifts. I realize that I live by them today, but we both know they have been mine all along.”
The story is a message intended for all the children of the world, children of all ages, colors, creeds, and cultures. It begins during a time when royal gifts were pronounced by wise godmothers upon princes and princesses at their birth. The gifts were intangible virtues, resources, and qualities that enrich one’s sense of self-worth and dignity and enhance one’s ability to make a difference in the world.
Eventually, it becomes clear to the wise godmothers that the gifts are not only intended for all children, but are actually inherent in all children. The godmothers yearned to make this known to everyone. But announcing the gifts to all was not allowed in the kingdom at that time.
The godmothers predict, however, that, someday, all the world’s children will learn of their noble inheritance and birthright gifts. When that happens, “a miracle will unfold on the kingdom of Earth,” they say.
Readers then learn of their strength, beauty, courage, compassion, hope, joy, talent, imagination, reverence, wisdom, love, and faith, and receive a guiding wish to use each gift well.
In the process of writing and publishing The Twelve Gifts of Birth, I realized that I needed to hear its message myself. Repeatedly. And I needed to understand the gifts better. Since then, they’ve never been far from my mind. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t live in a perpetually blissful state of awareness and love. Of course at times I get upset, angry, petty, judgmental… But I am continually trying to better recognize and cultivate the gifts in myself and to see them and kindle them in others. I’ve been working on this through, among other things, mindfulness, prayer, reading, writing, workshops, and study.
I especially appreciate my studies in philosophy and spiritual psychology. Beyond the degrees I received, I value how education stretched me, filled me, and in its way also emptied me, so I could be open to receive and better evaluate thoughts and ideas. I hold education in high regard. Just as my heart aches for all children to know that they are gifted, talented and valuable, I yearn for high-quality education to be available to all children. All people.
Of course there’s the great school of life. We’re all in it. With or without formal education, it’s living that gives the biggest, the smallest, the most basic, and the most critical lessons to every one of us. We all get our share, like it or not.
I don’t get all of my lessons right. I’ve experienced a lot of “aha!” moments, but also a good number of “uh-ohs.” I’m not a straight A student in the school of life. Sometimes it feels like I’m repeating a lesson, or even a whole grade. But through each loss, gain, challenge, and triumph, I’ve grown. I’m still growing. And learning.
Life has invited me, and continues to encourage me, to walk my talk. I’m grateful for every nudge. Some are more like pushes. But in addition to teaching through tough lessons and challenges, life gives answers through joy, imagination, and beauty. And nature. Sometimes it seems to me as if Mother Nature is there right in front of me, trying to hand out answers on silver platters. Or green leaves, brown trunks, or purple flowers. Learning does not have to be a struggle; it also comes with grace and ease, comfort and peace, and fun. We just need to be open to learning from unexpected places and situations.
I’m as passionate about understanding and living the Twelve Gifts as I was when I woke from that dream in 1987. In trying to consciously use the Twelve Gifts in responding to life’s ups and downs, I’ve ended up writing a lot more about them—books, blogs, and daily email messages. The Twelve Gifts from the Garden emerged out of my time spent in nature.
Dear Reader,
I am not a master gardener. However, I have an abundance of appreciation for all things that sprout, grow, blossom, and bloom. I’m grateful for how plants soothe us and uplift us. I’m thankful that they feed our bodies, enrich our minds, and nourish our souls. Plants help us breathe. They have healing power. Wordlessly, they lead us toward understanding. They teach by example.
I’ve received a lot of guidance from plants, including lessons related to strength, beauty, courage, compassion, hope, joy, talent, imagination, reverence, wisdom, love, and faith. This is what I have to share, what I wish to share, in this book. If you are already familiar with my work, you know that I’m passionate about these twelve resources—which I call the Twelve Gifts. If you are not yet familiar with the Twelve Gifts, I hope you soon will be, by starting here. Familiar or not, I’d like to tell you what’s in this book and why I wrote it.
The Twelve Gifts from the Garden is a collection of discoveries, healing perceptions, and aha experiences I’ve had on Sanibel, an island off the southwest coast of Florida. Most events were triggered in a garden or in nature. Usually they were stirred by a “close encounter” with a plant. Each sharing contains something, often a lesson, about using our twelve inner gifts.
I was inspired, in part, to collect my musings and publish these “gifts from the garden” because I thoroughly enjoyed reading Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s Gift from the Sea, which she wrote in the early 1950s on Florida’s Captiva Island. I have appreciated her thinking, admired her style, and delighted in the role seashells play in her essays. Although I was just a toddler at the time she wrote the bestseller, and I did not discover Gift from the Sea until I was almost forty, I have taken my own lessons from nature, especially plants, since my early childhood. And what Anne Morrow Lindberg did with shells on Captiva, I started doing with plants upon my first visit to Sanibel Island, well before I discovered her wonderful book. Please don’t compare my writing with her exquisite essays. Let the reflections in both books stand on their own. If you have not yet read Gift from the Sea, I highly recommend it. Right now, I’d like to shed light on how I began taking lessons from nature. As