Blue-Eyed Grass

On my walk this morning, i saw blue-eyed grass growing on the roadside. I love blue-eyed grass. Such a simple wildflower. A single blue flower on a single stem of grass. I've tried growing it and always lost it. Today i saw it in profusion--growing in sand (read: limestone) in Florida (read: hot). I don't have those conditions in my garden.

In meditation, i don't have the proper conditions for the meditative absorptions, which require deep concentration. To some people, deep concentration comes easily, naturally, even spontaneously.

I am content with what i have--good enough concentration and deep enough insights to understand. And if, once in a great while, a beautiful concentration arises, i am at peace with what is. No blue-eyed grass in my garden. Not much concentration in my meditation.

Seed Shortage

When i tried to order seeds from my favorite purveyor, the website said that they only take online orders on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. One friend said she couldn't order seeds from her usual two sources because they were only selling to wholesalers. 

It's only February, and there's a seed shortage already.

I looked at my collection of seeds left over from previous years and determined what i needed. I went to the farm & garden store where I was able to buy almost (but not quite) everything on my list. Whew!

In these polarized political times, we might say there's a shortage of kindness. Yet when emergencies strike, neighbors do show kindness to neighbors.

No matter the outer conditions, we want to plant seeds of kindness--even in situations where another person is not kind to us. Striking out to defend ourselves is not good for our tender souls. The best defense is kindness. And yes, sometimes kindness is big and strong.

Curating Your Garden

 

A new word has entered my gardening vocabulary: Curated. I have a curated garden. Expensive gardeners are now called curators of the gardens they attend to. The word "curate" means to select, organize, and look after the items in a collection. Curate also implies that my plants are swish; they are cool; they are "in." 

My plants don't know or care whether they are "in" or not. They are simply happy to grow, unless conditions are not right.

It's true that i aim for an aesthetically pleasing garden--blues and yellows together, silvers and pinks. At the same time, i realize the impermanence of my entire undertaking. Twenty years from now, very little of "my" garden will remain. My collections will scatter and be overgrown and replaced by something or someone else.

Every curated collection is impermanent.

And so are we.

Daffodils in the Snow

Daffodil leaves are popping up through the snow. We are in the midst of winter-spring. Or is that spring-winter?

This is one of the problems with concepts and categories. We think "spring" means spring and "winter" means winter. Meanwhile, each day is full of changes. Sun, snow, rain, ice, and a new word my sister discovered "graupel," which means a soft, snowy hail.

Change. Every day the weather changes. Maybe we need 31 different words for each day in March to describe various combinations of conditions? Even then, dissatisfaction would creep in because spring or winter or the in-between doesn't look like it's "supposed to."

Keep your eye on the change. It's a deep teaching.

Night Sky

My friend Mary Beth has a hanging basket of petunias near her back door. The petunias are one of my favorite varieties—Night Sky. White dots scattered on a purple background remind me of a clear starry night. Each flower has its own unique markings, which are caused by the temperature conditions of each flower’s birth. The wider the nighttime and daytime temperatures are, the more white markings.

Each flower is unique. Each snowflake is different from all others. And each of us is unique, depending on various causes and conditions of our birth, childhood, young adulthood, etcetera.

Yet how much time and suffering have I spent trying to shoehorn myself into “normal”? Trying to look and act and even think like “other people.” What a useless waste of energy.

Each Night Sky petunia is unique and authentically itself.

September Gardening Was Awful

I want to return to yesterday's post and Pam Baxter's real question: What about gardening when conditions are hot, humid, and full of mosquitoes?

First of all, notice the unpleasantness. Hot--unpleasant. Humid-unpleasant. Sweltering--unpleasant. Mosquito bites--unpleasant.

The mind has a difficult time just leaving the raw data of experience alone. Unpleasant. Unpleasant.

So the mind compares this unpleasant moment to another pleasant moment, and feels dissatisfied with what this present moment is offering. Notice this comparing mind--the one that compares this very seeing-hearing-feeling vivid reality moment with some dream idea, some virtual reality. Feel the dissonance. Feel the dissatisfaction. Feel the unpleasantness of the dissatisfaction. (Oh-oh. Is there an feedback loop of unpleasantness going here?)

The mind might go so far as making up a story. After all, the mind likes stories. Sometimes the mind wants a story, so that we don't have to feel our unpleasant emotions. Stories such as "This hot humidity is the result of climate change. I know it," spark more unpleasantness. Even if that story is true (and maybe it's not quite true), what can we small gardeners do about it? We are already doing our best. We do our best, and allow Life to take care of itself.

Rest in your caring compassion for the Earth and your caring compassion for yourself. Go ahead, have a good cry about it, then drink some water, and go sit in your beautiful just-as-it-is garden.

Ode to Joy

A symphony of goldfinches was singing from the pine tree tops this morning. A gray day of sprinkling rain, yet the finches sang joyfully, despite the outer conditions.

Where do we find our joy--despite outer conditions of aging, illness, or things not going according to plan?

Paperwhites Are Bloomng

The first paperwhite bulbs that i began forcing 2 weeks ago is beginning to bloom. That was fast.

We too can bloom, given the right conditions--water, sun, warmth of heart.

Listen here to a guided meditation--A Flower in Your Heart.

Jade Flowers

My jade plant is blooming. Visitors are surprised to see the clusters of white star-like flowers.

"Well, that's what happens when you don't water it in September and October," i say. Also, the cool--well, okay, shivering--night temperatures of October also helped. My houseplants didn't come indoors until mid-October. I was on retreat that month, so no one was paying any attention to the jade plant, and that neglect helped it flower.

Creating the right conditions for our own flowering can take some experimenting. As it turns out, having everything is simply stressful. My month-long retreat in October--with no phone, no internet, no books, no writing, and 2 meals a day--created the conditions for calm and open awareness to arise.

Beautiful.

British Weather

I hear people complaining about the cloudy, rainy weather we've had this month of May. I didn't even notice. I've been enjoying the cool, misty, cloudy British weather. What conditions give rise to those beautiful British gardens? Cool, misty, cloudy weather.

What conditions give rise to our own internal weather?

A smile works wonders. Just a little Buddha smile on the lips. While you're at it, smile with your eyes--the sign of a true smile. Place a smile in your heart and a smile in your mind.

I feel better already.