GRAPEVINE

Benjamin Franklin once said "We hear of the conversion of water into wine at the marriage in Cana as of a miracle. But this conversion is, through the goodness of God, made every day before our eyes. Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards; there it enters the roots of the vines, to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy. "


I've been doing a little bit of research and a great deal of thinking. The research I did on grapevines(don't use this for scientific credibility as I may have pulled this from a junk source) and the thinking I did was on people and how they are seen with respect to what they want from their lives, what they believe they are expected to produce in their lives, and what it is that others expect from them. And though the quote above is about God's love for people, it can be applied equally for how it is that we view each other. Because we love other people, and we love to see them happy as well. And if we fall short of understanding what it is we are expected to achieve in our lives, maybe that is due to our inability to understand what and when it is expected to be provided, under what conditions we expect it of others, and what they intend to do with it as a testament to their labors.
Grapevines are a rather tricky things to make in the first place and take a great deal of time and effort to nurture before they can give what it is they are intended to produce. They require a massive expenditure of effort from the very first moment they are required to grow, and they take in and assimilate everything that is given to them. Both the good and the bad. When they are small, they are carefully placed in soil that will be as much a part of them as their fruit. They are unique to their environment and nothing will change this. A good vintner will expect to tend to grape vines for ten to fifteen years, constantly pruning the branches down and allowing the roots to grow deep before allowing the vine to flourish. Nothing is expected of these vines but to develop the roots from which they will draw from for the rest of their lives.
This is very much like how parents tend to their children and how we, as the vintners, must see the roots of a family. It is for this that people are not expected to flourish into their own at this point. They do not, and are not allowed to attain their height and fullness. They grow deep, and removing a grapevine to flourish elsewhere in a place it is not accustomed or understood is tantamount to total failure. Your roots are just that. Roots. They bind and hold the vine as strongly to the earth as the values of people do to the family that raised them from seedlings. Remove it, and you will kill it. Change it, and you will kill it. Forget it's importance, and you will kill it. That's why good vineyards are sold to a vintner willing to assume the land rather than transplant the vines. And much like people, it is irresponsible to believe that it can be done any other way. Bring the vintner to the vines, not the vine to the vintner.
One of the hardest things to teach a person, and a vintner for that matter, is that when the vine is assumed for the purpose of making wine, that it is the responsibility of that vintner to provide the necessary components to achieve the best grapes. It is not the job of the vine at this point to provide. It has already done what was expected of it so far by growing the roots to hold the fruit. In order to maximize the height and potential of the vine, the soil it is provided and the water that it is given must be balanced. The vine can do but one thing, and that is to grow to produce grapes. People, as well, are often expected at the beginning of their relationships to believe that their sole purpose is to make the grapes of their relationships just as grapevines do. The fault however is that people are never told that they are required to make the grapes, but it is the responsibility of the vintner to be expected to PRODUCE wine from them. And so many simply mature with the feeling that their sole purpose is to making the grapes. A vintner who fails to do this will wonder why the vines are shriveled and twisted or fail to produce the amount of fruit that he wants. And it is people, like grape vines, who fail to see the relationship responsibility here. It is the vine that produces the grapes, but it is the attention to detail of the vintner that determines the amount and taste of the fruit, not to mention the greatness of the wine. I might also mention here, that it is very common for people to assume that it is their job to produce the grapes as their primary task in life, and nothing could be further from the truth. A person nurtured, either well or irresponsibly, believes incorrectly that their job is to make grapes. But it isn't. The goal is to produce WINE. Grapes are simply half the task. It is then, again, the responsibility of the vintner to harvest the fruit he has grown, and turn it into the wine. And the wine is the measure of your diligence to the tending of your vines. People are no different. People are the result of what you put into them. If you have fertilized the soil around your vines with less than is needed by making the ground too acidic, or watered it with less than it required, or salted it with tears, the fruit harvested will be sparse, and bitter. And at this point it is very easy for the vintner to blame the vine for its failure to produce the grapes he wanted without ever giving a whit to his responsibility to that fruit in the first place. Even worse, is to have the vine feel as though this is the final measure of their worth; that this is end goal of the vine as far as the vintner is concerned and that failed harvest comes down to nothing more than the weight of the bucket. So much like many people and their belief that the lives of their partners ends when they have been provided with what they want without truly understanding what to do with it.
A good wine, is the measure of a superb vintner. It is the culmination of the understanding of its nurtured past, the responsibility for its growth and maturity, and the responsible diligence to the final result that makes a vintner truly respected by his peers. It is this constant symbiotic practice of give and take by both the vintner and the vine, in response to his labors that will create the greatest of wines. And in the case of people, the greatest of relationships.
Our lives, and everything we do within it, are so much like a single grapevine in a vineyard. And what we expect to achieve within our lives has little to do with how we wish it to be, and more often than not, a direct result of the labor expended to maintain it. What a sad commentary on the value of ourselves and the expectations of relationships to sell ourselves short while still being expected to produce wine quality grapes regardless of what is supplied as nurturing. Simply going from season to season eking out the labor of making grapes with grim resolution only to find that there will be no wine made at all. The potential of the greatest of fruits left to spoil on the vine.
Why is it that those who exact such refined grapes to make wine in the beginning seem to have no understanding of what goes into making one? Then, having been shown how, bitch about the quality of the grape as being insubstantial. And then, even if their efforts DID manage to harvest enough grapes to fill the bottles to his liking, would fall only to the lips of a person who wouldn't know good wine from bad, nor had the taste or affinity for the rewards of fine wine in the first place? And still the grapevine feels as though it did what it was expected with what it was given and still fell short of the potential.
The saddest part of this is that when the vineyard is no longer appreciated for its fruit, it is either ignored as being insufficient to make wine, or left to fallow in the field with the impression that it would be worthless to another vintner. The perception continuing to grow that it was the vine that did not live up to its end of the bargain. Ironically, a vine not worth the effort to make wine from, is rarely sold. It is simply kept. Even if another vintner DID want it, it would be advertised as "sour grapes" and advertised as such to even the lowest bidder. This may seem as a rather sad comparison, but I have a story to tell you that may give very willing and able grapevines a well deserved ray of sunshine.
Once upon a time In Bordeux, France there was a great wine maker named Gasteau. He was a very rich and powerful man and was well known for his ability to grow some of the greatest grapes in all of France. The wine he produced spread from table to table until he was considered one of the greatest winemakers of the region. Gasteau had four sons. And while three of them travelled in the same circles as that of their famous father, the youngest, Bastion, never felt he had the time to waste on the fine parties and gatherings. Instead, he spent his time carefully tending to the fields of his fathers vineyards. Truth be told, it was actually the labors of Bastion that perpetuated the notoriety of his father.
The years went by, and, season after season, Gasteau earned more and more recognition for the wine. The three older brothers, feeling no need to tend to the fields either, continued to gain worth of their own until they, too, were considered the most desired by young ladies wishing to marry. And all the while Bastion toiled in the fields tending to his father's grapes until it was assumed that Gasteau had but only three sons.
One season, Gasteau fell ill and it was obvious that he would not last to see the next summer. Gasteau gathered his sons about his bed and explained his wishes for the chateau and the vineyards surrounding it. He had become a very rich man and there was plenty to be to be shared by three sons. Well....four.
The greatest of the vineyards producing the best grapes was given to his eldest son, Louis. He beamed with pride through his sadness at the impending loss of his father, but consoled himself with the thought that he would still be very well off for the remainder of his life with a vineyard of such size, never once realizing that he would need to tend to it.
His second and third sons, Phillipe and Jean, would take the middle vineyards, leaving Bastion with the chateau and a very small hill on which to continue to provide for himself, but nowhere near to the amount of his other brothers. It was explained to Bastion that he had obviously no need to expect any more as he was not accustomed to the lifestyle that had, indeed been afforded him, but that he felt no need to embrace. His field was the least productive of any of the other three, but would still provide for him. Maybe not the greatest grapes of the estate, but enough to live on. The other brothers pitied Bastion's obvious paltry holdings compared to their own but not one went so far as to suggest a more fair division if it meant they would receive less.
Gasteau died in deep winter and was attended by all four brothers. What followed were countless gatherings of bereavement that, to Bastion, seemed to be further and further from consolation and more as a venue for securing the position their father had once held for themselves.
Spring came early and Bastion immediately went to work re tending the last of his vineyards while the brothers saw fit to end their time of mourning and enter into another season of entertainment. There was, after all, significant holdings from their father's passing and a years lost harvest could be afforded. But Bastion, now with less time to expend on the fields of his brothers, redoubled his efforts on his own small vineyard.
Season after season Bastion diligently labored in his fields tending the vineyards until the wine he produced became more and more popular. Not much at first, but enough to allow him to continue as he knew he should. The other three brothers produced no wine that season, and instead, explained that they were "resting" their fields. The vines shriveled in some places from lack of water, and others grew twisted trying to fight the lack of nourishment to the soil. Vines that once grew lush and full suddenly went twisting and turning of their own accord until it was impossible to harvest for that year. Nor the following year, nor the year after that.
Bastion's vineyard however, regardless of its small size, began spreading from one table to another as the reputation grew. Each season becoming more impressive than the last as his labors to produce wine worthy of true notoriety continued. The three older brother's continued in the same way they had always done until they had expended all of their father's holdings and had reduced themselves to the point of poverty. Having no other recourse, they attempted to sell their vineyards to anyone who would have them. But the vines had completely overrun the arbors and most vines simply produced blackened grapes that turned to powder at the slightest touch. No one would have anything to do with such worthless vines. The brothers eventually fled the region hoping to elude their creditors and the fields were left to anyone stupid enough to try and risk saving them. To which Bastion quickly volunteered. The fields slowly recovered under Bastion's efforts until they again regained their original splendor. The vines were carefully tended and cared for just as diligently as he had to his small, lesser, vineyard. Each season producing more and more favor among even more people and allowing him to continue to devote his attention to more of the fields. Bastion continued until every field was back to the grandeur that they had once been. And his ability to do so grew until finally it reached the grand tables of the French monarchy.
It was then that Bastion became the greatest vintner in all of Bordeaux and was sought as a husband by some of the wealthiest of French aristocracy. He politely refused explaining that his true love was for a woman who would be willing to tend to his vineyards as he would. They all graciously accepted his refusal as soon as it was understood that this man, regardless of his greatness as a vintner, had very little understanding of how to love a woman. They satisfied themselves with his ability to provide the greatest of wine to them and he returned to Bordeaux. He briefly courted a young woman from the north of France. In a small quiet ceremony in the front of his small chateau he married the woman whom he believed had everything within her to become the greatest of loves in his entire life. The daughter of a vintner who, for all of her great beauty, saw very little need to do anything other than to tend to the love of her life as her father had taught her to care for his vines.

Once Upon A Time In China

Once upon a time in China, there was a young poor farmer who had grown increasingly overburdened by the demands of his family and the landowner that he worked for. His sense of honor and duty was important to him, and failure in the eyes of anyone, especially his own family, was unacceptable to him. But he was tired and weak from his efforts, and no matter how hard he tried, there was always more and more set before him to do. He was disheartened by the fact that there seemed to be no end to what he was expected to do, but more so by the feeling that he was not appreciated by what it was that he was trying to accomplish and why. He understood that he was expected to do all that was required of him but assumed that, along the way, he would be able to gain favor as he did so. He agonized over the confusion within himself that he had fully accepted the conditions prior to his marriage and the assumption of the demands to the landowner, but blamed himself rather than the increasing demands of both to him to comply. He went to visit his elderly grandfather who had always listened to him and given fair counsel and concern.
As they sat drinking tea, the man explained his unhappiness and his desire to be all that was expected of him, but that he now felt overburdened and did not want to disrespect his promises to those he had willingly given them to.
The grandfather attempted to understand the conditions by asking him if it was the work itself that was being increased that was making him feel as a failure or was it he himself who was unable to do it. The man sighed and seemed despondent as he explained that both the marriage and the labors in the field had not changed, but that he had. That his desire to do them had become tainted by his inability to achieve any more favor in their eyes by doing them and that he had gained no more in the way of respect for accomplishing them regardless. He was afraid and ashamed to tell his grandfather this because it sounded, even to him, that this was an unworthy expectation to expect for himself when it was he who said that he could do it.
The grandfather rose slowly and asked the grandson if he would take a walk with him. He was always willing to spend time with the old and feeble man and walk with him seemed perfectly normal. Before they left the grandfather asked him if he would not mind performing a few simple tasks along the way. He readily agreed.
The old man and the grandson walked down the path and as they walked the old man stooped to pick up a rather oddly shaped and cumbersome stone. He asked the grandson to carry it for him. He attempted to place the stone in his pocket and found it painful to walk. He instead, held it in the crook of his arm and they continued to walk through the fields.
The old man stopped again to pull a large and tangled branch from the grass and handed it to the grandson to carry for him. The grandson looked at the bent bough and thought to ask why he should carry such an ungainly and twisted branch but thought better of it. He had to make a decision to put the painful rock in his pocket and walk to make room to shoulder the bough. As they continued along, the man told more and more of his story with the grandfather staying very quiet and merely nodding when it was appropriate. And while they walked, the grandfather continued to hand things to the grandson. A discarded wicker basket to loop around his shoulder, and then a vessel to hold water. A fishing pole, and small sack of grain. And the more that the grandson attempted to carry, the farther behind he fell behind the steps of the old man.
The grandson had been attempting to juggle all of these things with so much difficulty that he fell behind until the old man could not hear the story he was trying to tell him at all. He simply tottered along on his cane and dropped the things he wanted in the path for his grandson to carry. And then, he stopped pulling them to the path at all and simply pointed with his gnarled finger that he wanted it picked up.
Finally the grandson had had enough. There was simply no possible way that he could move or function. The load was ungainly, the weight too much, and all the while sweat pored from his brow to run in his eyes. In addition to what it was that he knew he should be concentrating on, small tiny gnats attempted to distract him. Nothing important but just enough to make him expend even more precious energy to bat them away. He wanted to succeed, and knew it was important, and most of all wanted nothing more than to do it, but simply couldn't juggle everything that was being expected to carry. He was only one man. He stopped in the path and dropped everything he had been carrying and loudly called to his grandfather to stop. The old man stopped and turned around and then slowly walked back as his grandson as he voiced his frustration to the old man. Each slow step back toward the grandson telling him how unfair it was to be expected to carry all of these things and say nothing, or to know that it was required but with no benefit to except to be seen as capable of carrying it.
The grandfather finally stopped in front of the grandson and smiled. He asked the grandson if he was upset. The grandson emphatically said "YES!". He then asked him if he thought this was unreasonable to ask him to do these things even though he agreed that he would walk with him and do the tasks that he required of him. He paused for a brief moment and then again said "Yes". And finally he asked the grandson if he thought it was unfair. Again he said "yes".
The grandfather waited just a moment for the analogy to soak in and then asked if it was fair to complain about the journey or the burden placed upon him as they walked if it was asked if he would do them before they left.
The man sighed and crumpled in defeat and began picking up his miserable load feeling as though he was the one who had failed, yet again, in his own sense of worthiness and the expectations of others. The grandfather talked quietly as he re shouldered his load and told him that he had done nothing different from the beginning of this journey as he had up until now. That he was told what he would do and that he had accepted those demands readily. He asked if simply stating and reminding him of what he had promised was enough to put the labors into a perspective that brought any more worth or happiness to him.
"But I thought we were going to walk and enjoy each others company. I thought that you would be happy to have me do the things you required, but you became quiet. I thought that I would be able to like to do these things that were expected along the way, but there seems to be no end to what it is that you would have me do. And as the journey grows longer, I am becoming less and less capable of doing what you ask. I am not happy in doing these things for you because now I am tired and exasperated by the effort."
The old wise man looked at the grandson and asked "And do you think that that is unfair?"."Yes it is unfair"
"Even though I asked you before we started and that I have not increased my demands from the start?"
The grandson felt a trick coming but answered honestly. "Yes. Because when I said that I would do it, I expected it to be something different and didn't know what was going to be required. I didn't know what to ask."
"And do you think that this is less fair now for your not asking?"
The grandson steeled himself for the answer he thought he would get for what he was going to say, but in his frustration continued anyway.
"Grandfather, I know what I said in the beginning, but I did not know what to ask. I only assumed that I knew what to ask and had no way of knowing that I would change along the path. How could I know if I didn't know where I would be expected to go or how much I would have to carry? I knew what I was doing, but could not see why when we first started. How could I know what I would feel if I had not been there? I knew what I wanted but did not know that it would not come. And most of all, I feel as though the more I am expected to carry, the more of a failure to you I will become if I can not carry it. I have changed along this walk and feel as though if I had known what was coming, and how little I would gain from it in worthiness or respect from you, that I would have said no." All I want is to make you proud of me for what I will do, but all of these things are only of use to you and not to me. All these things are to me, are objects that I must carry to retain my honor".
The grandfather began pulling the loads from his grandson's shoulders and talked quietly to him.
"You have learned a very valuable lesson. Just because you were noble in your intentions to do what was right in the beginning by assuming those burdens, does not mean that you should be expected to continue in your endeavors to remain bound to them if they are only for the wants and needs of others. Even from a man who will willfully sacrifice of himself, there has to be something that returns in you to continue to do it. If you do not know what to ask in the beginning, how can you be expected to make a fair decision? If you do not know what to expect, how can you know if you can do it? Your expectations for the journey should be just as important to others as your responsibilities to achieve them are important to them. And it is not your fault that you have changed. It is your birthright. It is the fault of others because they have NOT changed while they expect you to remain constant. Your responsibilities are only HALF of what is required for any journey. A life, a marriage, a simple walk with an old and tired man. All are the same. It is only fair to assume that if your responsibilities were understood by you, that so should your expectations have been for assuming them. The worth of a man or woman is not by what they do, for an ox is never thanked, and yet it still plows the field. The worth of the task is measured by how it is returned to you in the way you need to feel it.
The old man walked back toward the village leaving the man in the road. The grandfather stopped at the top of the small hill and turned to reply to his grandson.
"Can I ask you a favor that is a little more acceptable?"
"Of course you can grandfather."
"Walk with me and let me enjoy your company".
The grandson paused for a moment and then replied quietly that he would love to walk with him, but that he can't carry what he expects. "Grandson" he replied in almost a whisper "This time I didn't ask you to".
The grandson smiled and understood that half of the solution to the problem is to not be expected to have it asked of him in the first place.