low maintenance, high yield

Several years ago, I was sitting in a fifth Sunday combined Relief Society/ Priesthood meeting where the Second Counselor made a lesson out of his garden, and it stuck with me.

The premise of his lesson is the title of this post, and it goes something like this:

Backyard vegetable gardens are fun projects but are, at least initially, a very bad investment. Top soil, ground plastic, planter boxes, fertilizer, watering systems and seed can run a very high tally, so much so that, at the harvest of the first growing season, the toiled over tomato crop may run about $17.75 a fruit. However, take that same planter box, soil, ground plastic, and watering system the next season, add a little more fertilizer and some more seed to it, and not only does the cost of your tomato crop drop drastically, but the yield is generally much much higher.

This principle can be clearly seen in old well established vegetable gardens where perennial berry bushes, fruit trees and rich soil produce beautiful plentiful harvests once, twice, or even three times a year, with little more than an occasional weeding and regular watering at the hand of the gardener. The once expensive, high maintenance, low yield investment is transformed into an inexpensive, low maintenance, high yield and highly cherished contribution to the gardener and her home.

The second counselor drew the parallel that we should seek to be low maintenance, high yield with God too. I have since drawn several parallels to this parable within varying aspects of my life.

Most recently, a friend with whom I had long ago shared this analogy declared that a person either is or isn't low maintenance, high yield, and that relatively few people legitimately are. He believes attempting to become such a thing is as dubious an endeavor as attempting to become more funny or more witty. Basically, you either are, or you aren't and thats that.

His girlfriend was high maintenance, high yield. I perceive that this is a fairly common attribute among women. Put at lot into a woman, give her a lot to work with, and she will do many brilliant amazing things. But, the investment should be constant and large volume, akin to remodeling the basic structure of the garden every season. Adding a fountain, taking out a planter, relocating a fruit tree. You get the idea.

But then, according to my friend he himself is low maintenance, low yield. Often, men need very little input, and they can pretty much maintain a status quo indefinitely, but will also produce only the minimum needed to sustain that status quo. I feel this is much like spitting watermelon seeds into the sandbox. Yeah, a plant or two might appear, and maybe a small melon, but no intent is given to the outcome of those tiny seeds.

And here, I begin to puzzle. I feel strongly that, at least within an individual, it is possible to be low maintenance, high yield, but it does seem to defy the common course of things. What drives some people to seek perpetual support, to essentially be high maintenance? Conversely, what prevents others from independently pursuing their dreams, basically making them low yield?

Many of us are limited by what we believe we can accomplish. Culture, religion, family, and personal expectations bind us to a reality that is no accurate representation of our capabilities or talents. Unfortunately this misrepresentation is skewed toward the low end, so consequently, our personal confidence is trapped behind prison bars that don't actually exist.

Others of us are limited by our desires; we don't know what we want. Not because the information isn't available, but because we aren't listening to the source of that information as much as we listen to the running commentary proffered by those evaluating our desires. Similar cultural and social limitations encroach on our dreams, tying us to the desires of other people, drowning out our own.

I wonder what might happen if we let them go? What if we blew the bars off the prison around our confidence and let the dove of our desire fly free? Would we ultimately land in a place where a deep well of inner strength and peace meets a boundless passion for living life completely? Would we finally be home? Is that really what a low maintenance, high yield life looks like? I'm inclined to believe it does, and if so, I for one can't wait to get there. I bet the tomatoes from that garden would taste unbelievably great.