Cold Last Night

Last night, the temperature here dropped to 21 degrees, so yesterday afternoon, i brought many of my potted tulips indoors. Now, i'm waiting for them to bloom in another week or two.

My sweetie and i are also waiting to see if the virus "blooms" in us. We flew home a week ago. Yes? Or no? The answer is "Don't know."

Consider how many thousands of things we don't know.
What am i eating for lunch? Don't know.
When will i take a nap? Don't know.
Where will i take a walk today? Don't know.

Those little don't-knows don't bother my mind. But then the mind latches on to one don't-know and keeps touching it like worry beads.

I open to not knowing.

Can you say that and feel it?

I am not willing to open to not knowing, because....

List whatever comes to mind. No judgment. Just listen to your list.

Infinite Not Knowing.

How does that feel?

Even the tulips do not know when they will bloom.

Hanging by Her Fingernails

This morning, i looked out the kitchen window to see a big, fat gray squirrel squirming on the squirrel-proof bird feeder. Aha! i thought. I'm going to give that squirrel a good scare.

I quietly opened the door, but the squirrel didn't run away. I walked right up to the bird feeder, and still the squirrel squirmed--and cried. Then i saw that it had one finger caught in the bird feeder. Every time she moved, her finger caused her more pain.

I got a screwdriver and put on leather work gloves. I faced the squirrel who quieted down and stared at me. Was she ready to meet her Maker? Or could she feel my good intentions? I pried the feeding gate off the bird feeder. Still, the squirrel was stuck, hanging by one fingernail.

I peered more closely to see the cause of the problem. Then, suddenly, she was free, and she bounded off.

We too are caught in the pain of stress and distress. We try to think our way through our problem, get caught in the story, and only cause ourselves more distress.

Even when we have the tool for our release close at hand, our little hands are still grasping for something we desire.

Then we drop the desire and are free. Free to live our own wild and precious life.

Bread of Flowers

When i saw Le Pain des Fleurs at the food coop, well, i just had to try it. The Bread of Flowers--that sounds like the staff of life for gardeners.

I'm always looking for a non-gluten alternative because wheat makes me sleepy. If i succumb to home-baked bread or delicious pizza, 2 hours later, i just have to take a quick nap.

This is the way of craving. We grasp something (whatever it may be) out of habit or because it's pleasant. Later on, we pay the price of that desire.

I don't want to sleep through my life. I want to wake up to my life. It's the one and only life i have.

Expressing Gratitude

My neighbors are having their kitchen redone, and their downstairs bathroom accessible-ized in preparation for old, old age. Meanwhile, they are staying in our guest suite, nicknamed The Sweet, where they can cook, be warm, and sleep comfortably.

In gratitude, Diana gave me a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Expressing gratitude reminds us to not take things for granted, to not take life for granted. When we are young, we think things are going to stay the same. After all, that's the only way we've known life to be. We expect our grandparents will continue to be there, just like they have always been. As grandparents, we know the end is coming, and we prepare for it as best we can--like taking out the bathtub and putting in a shower with handrails.

If we were really in touch with life and aliveness, we would express our gratitude for just about everything--even the difficult things which force us to loosen our grasp on something or someone or other.

In the end, we have to let it all go anyway--flowers, friends, grandparents, and handrails.

Pleasant Fades

The holiday centerpiece that i made 4 weeks ago at Garden Club is starting to look a bit stale. It's still green, but.... What? I'm tired of it? It looks like Christmas, and Christmas is gone?

The 3 carnations "passed" a couple of weeks ago and were carried out to the compost pile. The baby's breath has dried out, and their color has shifted from white to off-white, but they're still okay as a dried flower.

In the cleaning up of holiday decorations, the centerpiece has gone outdoors, to live next to the ornamental flowerpot of greens and a gazing globe. The centerpiece is a bit small for the job, but adequate for this supporting role of greenery.

And so life goes. From pleasant to neutral to unpleasant and back again. First, the centerpiece was pleasant. Then i stopped seeing it as it faded to neutral. Then i began "seeing" it again, only now it looked slightly unpleasant. Untimely. Unfresh.

Pleasant--we want it.
Unpleasant--we don't want it.

Are we at the mercy of pleasant and unpleasant?
Grasping every pretty, pleasant thing.
Pushing away every unsightly, unpleasant thing.

As if we could arrive at a place where everything is pleasant.
But even the pleasant fades to neutral, as we tire of it.

Earth Shaking

The excavator arrived at 3:00 yesterday afternoon and pulled 12 stumps out of the ground. He was just shaking the dirt off the last one when Perennial Swappers arrived to tour my spring gardens at 6:00.

The gardener, Elisha, and i worked all day to prepare for this earth-shaking event--digging plants, transplanting them, moving delicious black soil out of the herb garden because it's about to buried.

When the earth shakes under our feet, we can hold on for dear life. In order to hold on, we grasp, we cling.

Or we can allow ourselves to be shaken to the core, allow ourselves to be shaken out of the comfortable delusions and the uncomfortable beliefs that bind us to the "great mandala" of samsara (stress).

Look up. Notice the wide open sky.

Behind Every Good Pleasure is a Modicum of Displeasure

I cleaned up my community garden plots yesterday, digging out the clover and the witch grass that sneaks in around the edges. I have two 9x12 plots. Even though i love their full-sun site, here's are some examples of the stress that sneaks in around the edges:

• Driving to the garden. It's only 10 minutes away, and in a village where i often go to run errands, but, in another sense, it's "out of the way."
• Since i am there infrequently--not more than once a week--i compare my raggedy plot to the neat, burgeoning plots of the women who live within walking distance.
• Harvesting in a timely fashion.

Recognizing these shreds of stress, i willingly and even happily gave away one of my plots to a friend who is a more assiduous gardener than i.

More is not better. Sometimes we renounce even the things that bring us pleasure, because hiding behind the pleasure are tiny scraps of displeasure. We see the truth behind the pleasure and release our grasp.

What can you let go of today?

Pay It Forward

A Dharma Friend is coming this morning to cut flowers for her daughter's wedding. My flower garden might look bare tomorrow. Or i might not even be able to tell the difference.

Should i close my heart out of fear of the unknown? Shall i be close-fisted (also called grasping)?
Or shall i open my hand in friendliness and generosity?
What would you do?

I could pay it forward---as opposed to paying back the innumerable kindnesses that have been done to me. Just last week someone gave me 3 plants and 2 kinds of seed. I might or might not ever pay her back in plants, but i can pay the plants--or flowers--forward. Today.