Dec. 26, 2012
Aah, the after-Christmas peace...
Now I can relax and watch the frost form. Actually it's a bit cold to sit outside and
I'm still not THAT patient. I can tour the yard and see how it has changed with all
the sparkly highlights. Daylight is fading already, though. Maybe I'll just bundle
up on the couch with a good book. 'Tis the season to hibernate. Zzzzzz...
August 10, 2012I've been taking a little time to catch up on all the projects I've pushed aside and the sleep that I've missed over the last few months. This little gopher has the secret to active rest. It was only blinking, but it's amazing how it manages to look so relaxed and alert at the same time. I will ponder this awhile and see if I can catch other creatures in this stance to add some perspective. There's insight here but it needs to bubble up like a fresh spring and at this point I have all the finesse of a person stomping grapes in a barrel. Learning cannot be forced. |
July 19, 2012
Phew! I've been so busy outside of my garden I've almost lost touch with it. Good thing the plants have been so supportive of each other: sharing water, doing yoga stretches, and high-fiving through the loneliest days. I spent yesterday sorting and recycling all the used pots that were cluttering our garage. Today I finally got to get my hands dirty.
It all started innocently enough. I was moving the sprinkler and noticed a lot of peas that were ready to eat. Soon they were all gathered into my makeshift shirt-basket and carted inside for the family to enjoy. I popped out to turn on the hose and noticed that one of my dahlias was looking pitiful. One quick shovel stroke later, I was carrying tubers over to a different garden. I had to clear space to plant them, so then the weeding started. I didn't even bother to put on gloves. As I transplanted the tubers I realized that they were all slimy and rotting. Unless the faeries intervene, those dahlias are goners.
After washing the tuber goo off my hands, I figured I should check on the blueberries. Among the masses of weeds behind our makeshift deer fence, some plump little orbs awaited picking. I thanked the plant as I collected them and then put my gratitude into some weeding action. Now I can differentiate the blueberry plants from their surroundings and they seem happier for the grooming.
I then planted a lovely Salvia that has been languishing in its pot and, to finish the blitz, I finally put soil in with the purple irises I so rudely ripped out of the ground to make room for the dahlias in the first place. Thankfully there are other dahlias that are thriving in that spot. All was not wasted! There is now a glorious show of potted irises to look forward to next spring. Oh, and figs. Lots of figs.
July 9, 2012
July 2, 2012
Dear God,
I am just about to leave on a big adventure with my choir.
Let me adopt the relaxed alertness of my feline friend.
Let me be fearless as I gallop out beyond my comfort zone.
Bless me with unwavering focus and memory.
Let my voice sing out clear and strong.
Let it weave magic along with the voices of my sisters.
Most of all, let joy flow through each moment of our journey.
Thank you (and feel free to join in).
June 6, 2012
As I was waking up this morning, I was considering life's basic needs. They're all provided for us in Nature: food, water, air, shelter, clothing, companionship. All of that is possible for every person on the planet. (Creatures grow their own clothing, so are less needy.) When did it become the government's responsibility to provide those needs for and/or take them from us? When did we stop working together and sharing the necessities of life?
When this land was taken from its First People, there were promises made by the government: "You Indians don't need so much land. Live in the modern world, and we will provide you with food, education, shelter, and blankets." The food lacked nutrition, the education was beyond harsh, the shelter wasn't appropriate for the climate or population and the blankets were diseased. It was an awful road to travel. My ancestors did not directly harm the Native people, but their society did.
How is it that we have the same structure of government running things today? History has shown that they lied outright. Today we're all inundated with promises: "More jobs, more money, more more!" Steadily we are losing the necessities of life that are our birthright. We need nourishing food, pure flowing water, clean air, safe homes, warmth, one another. How dare we bargain any of these away for our wants as individuals or even as a collective!
Some of our ancestors saw what greed was doing to the landscape and sought to preserve some wilderness in National Parks. The government happily took that land and promised that they would protect it for all time. Now they are finding ways to bargain those away to corporations. Even modern treaty lands are being stripped by corporate interests. All this is in pursuit of money, which is not among any of our basic needs.
Let's stop being divided by history. We can all stand as one people. We can all remember our basic needs and be satisfied with meeting them. We can learn to share and cooperate. Corporations and governments are just groups of people. Greed can be healed. Once we remember that it is the Earth that gives us everything we need, we will not be able to treat our planet with anything other than respect. Do other creatures and the children of tomorrow deserve less just because we can't hear their voices?
When this land was taken from its First People, there were promises made by the government: "You Indians don't need so much land. Live in the modern world, and we will provide you with food, education, shelter, and blankets." The food lacked nutrition, the education was beyond harsh, the shelter wasn't appropriate for the climate or population and the blankets were diseased. It was an awful road to travel. My ancestors did not directly harm the Native people, but their society did.
How is it that we have the same structure of government running things today? History has shown that they lied outright. Today we're all inundated with promises: "More jobs, more money, more more!" Steadily we are losing the necessities of life that are our birthright. We need nourishing food, pure flowing water, clean air, safe homes, warmth, one another. How dare we bargain any of these away for our wants as individuals or even as a collective!
Some of our ancestors saw what greed was doing to the landscape and sought to preserve some wilderness in National Parks. The government happily took that land and promised that they would protect it for all time. Now they are finding ways to bargain those away to corporations. Even modern treaty lands are being stripped by corporate interests. All this is in pursuit of money, which is not among any of our basic needs.
Let's stop being divided by history. We can all stand as one people. We can all remember our basic needs and be satisfied with meeting them. We can learn to share and cooperate. Corporations and governments are just groups of people. Greed can be healed. Once we remember that it is the Earth that gives us everything we need, we will not be able to treat our planet with anything other than respect. Do other creatures and the children of tomorrow deserve less just because we can't hear their voices?
May 23, 2012
This wasp nest survived the winter rains beneath my garden gate. I don't know how many times I slammed the door last summer, but its occupants never complained. I only discovered it last week. There's something satisfying about contemplating angles and discovering a sphere.
When I add something to my yard, it doesn't really belong until it's adopted by nature. The top of the gate has become a sporadic perch for robins, finches, chickadees, and at least one barred owl. On hot days, hornets and other wasps cling to the support beams to scrape cedar for their nests.
Nobody lives in this nest now. I'm leaving it up as decoration as well as a deterrent to wasps who might identify the gate as prime real estate and object to my door-slamming ways.
May 21, 2012
May 11, 2012
One of the rarest phenomena of a perpetually overcast spring, the apple tree mandala, was just sighted. Let the blossoms begin!
April 30, 2012
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April 18, 2012
Quote From Adventures of Huckleberry Finn:
"Sometimes we'd have that whole river all to ourselves for the longest time. Yonder was the banks and the islands, across the water; and maybe a spark--which was a candle in a cabin window; and sometimes on the water you could see a spark or two--on a raft or a scow, you know; and maybe you could hear a fiddle or a song coming over from one of them crafts. It's lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened; I judged it would have took too long to make so many. Jim said the moon could a laid them; well, that looked kind of reasonable, so I didn't say nothing against it, because I've seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be done. We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them streak down. Jim allowed they'd got spoiled and was hove out of the nest. . ."
-Mark Twain-
"Sometimes we'd have that whole river all to ourselves for the longest time. Yonder was the banks and the islands, across the water; and maybe a spark--which was a candle in a cabin window; and sometimes on the water you could see a spark or two--on a raft or a scow, you know; and maybe you could hear a fiddle or a song coming over from one of them crafts. It's lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened; I judged it would have took too long to make so many. Jim said the moon could a laid them; well, that looked kind of reasonable, so I didn't say nothing against it, because I've seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be done. We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them streak down. Jim allowed they'd got spoiled and was hove out of the nest. . ."
-Mark Twain-
April 2, 2012 The flowers are doing their best to coax the sun. The tulip on the right is a contortionist, using body language to say, "C'mon, look! THIS is how you shine!" The few insects I've seen have been shivering so hard it takes ages to get a clear picture of them. At least their teeth don't chatter. When the flash goes off, they burrow into their Pieris Japonica duvet and whine, "Just five more minutes..."
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March 9, 2012
"Spring is sing-ing in the gar-den to the laughing daff-o-dils..."
(That's a line from a song I sang during vocal lessons years ago.) And it's TRUE!
Spring is a time for flights of fancy and nonsensical laughter. I've been really busy
learning songs and performing with my choir and I've gotten far too serious about it all.
So serious, in fact, that I don't realize how much fun I'm having each moment.
I had an impromptu rehearsal with my friend this morning for a concert we're singing
in tonight. We worked on a tricky Ave Maria in order to polish our timing. Then we
sang a traditional Balkan song we knew well last year just to make sure we didn't trip
over the words. The harmonies wove around us and started to play. Music blossomed
and energy danced. Now I'm looking forward to the concert.
All songs have magic in them, we just have to free them from the labels "Difficult"
and "Impossible" and give them a chance to soar. Perceptions can easily change. For
example, the moss that grows on our cliff has faces in it. Each time I walked past the other
day, I saw a small smiling person with a prominent brow, cheek and nose. Then my husband
pointed out his perspective. My little friendly moss face is also the cape of a cross-legged,
turbaned genie seen in profile with folded arms and great posture. Now the two images
always pop out of the background together.
Maybe instead of burning energy on dropping the labels we give to songs and other
things, we can let them just hang there and focus on the magic around them:
"This song might be impossible but I'm going to sing the hell out of it!"
Whatever makes it fun, right?
Feb. 22, 2012
Feb. 20, 2012
Looby's map of the outside world says, "Here there be monsterrrrs..."
She loves chewing grass, basking in the sun and rolling on dusty concrete
as long as there is a clear escape route back to the inside. I don't leave the
door open for hours during cold weather, so much of the year she is a true
house cat.
When summer hits, she is very timid about leaving her comfort zone. With
each trip beyond the walls she becomes more confident. The "Unknown"
section of her world map gets pushed outward and she thrives on newfound
freedom.
So often I've thought of reasons not to do wonderful things that I consider
beyond my abilities. When I catch myself doing that, I choose one of those
things and give it a whirl. The learning curve is usually pretty humbling, but
before long I realize that I've stepped out of my self-imposed cage. There's
no need to go back inside. There are more walls out there somewhere. For
now, the breeze chases the sunlight across the grass and invites exploration.
Jan. 15, 2012
The concept of everything being in motion has been written in many ways. Here is a nice simple one by Wayne Dyer that my brain can leap off from: "Everything is in motion. Everything flows. Everything is vibrating."
So even if I am sitting in a chair, ruminating over my peas, I am in motion. That's easy enough, considering everything that moves inside my body just to keep me alive. The peas I am staring at are in motion. Not only potential motion, because I might decide to push them around the plate with a fork, but actual motion just by being there. In order to reflect the colour green, they must be vibrating at a specific rate. Even the plate they are on has a certain vibration that differentiates it from the air, the table, or my hand.
So resting can still be considered productive. During those times, I integrate ideas that prepare me for action. These new ideas have vibrations of their own. When I take them in, my shape subtly changes... or the world's does. I wonder which it is. ←(Caution! Becoming stuck at rest is as unproductive as never resting.) Ideally, external motion becomes internal motion and flows back out again. This pattern is constant and transformative.
It's easier to see in nature. A winter leaf lies flat, blending in with the ground around it. I might see it as I walk by, but most likely I'll move on and forget about it. Overnight, the air chills, and the frost highlights the stem and all the veins of that leaf. The next morning I walk by and notice not only the leaf, but the path that life took through that leaf. I see the asymmetry of the pattern; the places where the leaf broke free from the need for perfection and found its own way to express life. I meander across the lawn, go inside and eat my peas.
So even if I am sitting in a chair, ruminating over my peas, I am in motion. That's easy enough, considering everything that moves inside my body just to keep me alive. The peas I am staring at are in motion. Not only potential motion, because I might decide to push them around the plate with a fork, but actual motion just by being there. In order to reflect the colour green, they must be vibrating at a specific rate. Even the plate they are on has a certain vibration that differentiates it from the air, the table, or my hand.
So resting can still be considered productive. During those times, I integrate ideas that prepare me for action. These new ideas have vibrations of their own. When I take them in, my shape subtly changes... or the world's does. I wonder which it is. ←(Caution! Becoming stuck at rest is as unproductive as never resting.) Ideally, external motion becomes internal motion and flows back out again. This pattern is constant and transformative.
It's easier to see in nature. A winter leaf lies flat, blending in with the ground around it. I might see it as I walk by, but most likely I'll move on and forget about it. Overnight, the air chills, and the frost highlights the stem and all the veins of that leaf. The next morning I walk by and notice not only the leaf, but the path that life took through that leaf. I see the asymmetry of the pattern; the places where the leaf broke free from the need for perfection and found its own way to express life. I meander across the lawn, go inside and eat my peas.
Jan. 12, 2012
New Year 2012I love the hope and excitement that comes with each new year. There's an overview of how much I achieved over the past twelve months and a sweet forgetting of how much I didn't. It's like pushing a "reset" button without having to start over completely. The post-Christmas holiday gives time to take a deep breath, take hold of my glider and leap for sky. Who knows what wind currents I'll meet this year, but I'll learn them and ride them and by next year I'll perch a little higher on the tree of life. |