Invasive

I took a walk in the woods yesterday and found a hundred yards of myrtle. No house could be seen, but i was walking on an old logging road, probably now used once a year for sugaring. Perhaps that dip near the road was an old cellar hole? Someone lived here once upon a time, but all traces of human habitation have disappeared. Except for rampant myrtle.

In Kentucky, Tennessee, South Carolina, and Georgia, myrtle is an invasive species. Our local garden club, Perennial Swappers, forbids gardeners bringing myrtle to give away. We know what it's going to look like a hundred years from now.

Karma is like this. We indulge in just a little bit of unskillful action--gossip, one drink too many, taking something when no one is looking.

Thoughts become words.

Words become deeds.

Deeds develop into habits.

Habits harden into character.

Watch the mind and its ways with care, born out of concern for all beings.

Our unskillful thoughts, words, and behaviors follow us past death. Old cemeteries here in New England are often surrounded by myrtle (Vinca).

Old Mums

My 6-week old mums in pots are looking quite bedraggled now. By being on retreat for the month of October, i missed almost their entire lifespan.

It's sort of like falling in love with a child in your life; then the next time you see them, they are middle-aged. Ahhh, they were so cute and fresh and full of life energy back then. Now, their body is showing the effects of their good or bad habits. This person who was so easy to love back then has developed habits, personality, and character since the last time you saw them, and, well....

Aging. We start aging the minute we are born. For the first couple of decade, children are very cute, perhaps adorable. The second decade--the teenage years, they spring into adult form and lose their pliability, but gain a definite personality. Etcetera.

The peculiar thing is, even though we see people aging all around us, we never think it's going to happen to us. Until it does.

My mums are old.

Blue Heron is Still Fishing

When i pulled up the shades in the kitchen this morning, a blue heron flew away from the fishpond. That must mean that fish still live there.

Our bad habits "go fishing" for us. They want us to bite the "hook" of craving. It's time to clean up our act.

My fishpond is about to be cleaned out of fish.

Pruning Red-Twig Dogwood

Red-twig Dogwood

Today my sweetie and i toured our shrubs and made strategic cuts, down to ground level.

The red-twig and yellow-twig dogwoods are a case in point. Left on their own they develop brown woody stems, but the new growth is bright red on the red-twig dogwood. Cutting them back to the ground enables new red growth to spring up.

I often say that i have pruned my habit of aversiveness--spouting off quick opinions and judgments, irritation stemming from frustration,  impatience when other people don't "see" what is so obvious to me. I still have all these habits, but what springs out of my mouth is not the old, hardy woody stem of deep-rooted aversion. Rather, i vent in a momentary way, and often ask for forgiveness within a few minutes or definitely within 24 hours.

This admission that i have spoken harshly, even if it was only a small prick, usually keeps my relationships on an even keel. Some of my friends find it easier to "take" my irritation because i quickly come around to softening it.

I've been pruning aversion for 14 years. And i have to say, my mind is a lot more beautiful than it used to be.

Green Beans and Kindness

Here comes the summer garden. I picked my first batch of green beans, and the cherry tomatoes are ripening. I stop by the farmstand on my way home every day, and buy 2 ears of corn for dinner. For the time being, i'm buying tomatoes too so i can have tomato sandwiches for breakfast, for lunch, and, well, for dinner too when i don't get home until 9:30 p.m. Let's eat summer.

Now, we can see the direct connection of food to plate because we're going out to our gardens and harvesting the food that appears on our dinner table, maybe less than an hour later. We know where that plant came from, perhaps we even know where the seed came from. We know the soil, and we know where that soil came from--last year's compost, perhaps.

The source of our thoughts, our actions, our habits, indeed, our personality is lost in the mists of time. Just for today, we watch our thoughts with care. When we have a stressful thought, we substitute the opposite, which is often loving-kindness. Loving-kindness for ourselves, first of all.

Serve yourself a nice green helping of goodwill and kindness toward yourself. Now.

Flat Plastic Vase

For the New Year's Eve sit at Vermont Insight Meditation Center last night, Drew brought a bouquet of alstromeria and a flat plastic vase. How handy! And easy to carry on an icy night. Just puff out the plastic, fill it with water, and the plastic holds its vase shape.

We ourselves hold the shape of our past actions. By this time in life, we've acquired lots of habits--gestures, ways of thinking, manners of speech, and a raft of opinions and judgments. We call this collection of habits "I."

Really, our physical container is puffed up with 60% water. Our container may be naturally good looking, or maybe not so much. But really it is just a container that will one day be flattened by death.

Our habits, our actions are the only thing we own. In this new year of 2014, let's focus on skillful and wholesome and beautiful actions.

I'm beginning by being grateful to Drew for the beautiful bouquet.

Rhododendrons Rooting

Rhododendrons root by "layering." Pull one of their branches down to the ground and put a large rock on it. When you come back 6 months later, the branch will have roots growing on its underside.

My rhododendrons have rooted their branches without any assistance from me, so, to thin them, i rip out some of these low-rooted branches.

Our habits of mind root themselves in our psyche, sometimes without our noticing. Label those thoughts. Label every thought you notice.

You don't need to judge the thought or wish you hadn't had it or tell yourself you "shouldn't" think such thoughts. That's just the ego trying to exert control and make the whole exercise so unpleasant that you'll just drop it.

The ground doesn't say, "I wish that rhododendron wouldn't grow here. I don't want its roots." The earth accepts whatever is given to it.

Label that thought.
And the next one.
And the next one.

It doesn't matter if you don't have exactly the right label. The label is not the point.

We simply want to notice our habits of mind.

Illustrations from tekura.school.nz

Transplanting Habits of Mind

Thanks to the rain, i walk out to the vegetable garden in the mist and transplant some squash seedlings. It's a good morning for transplanting, so i busy myself with moving plants from here to there.  The larkspur, feverfew, and white mallow are lounging over a walkway, so i uproot them from their home and move them back a couple of feet. Maybe i stake them upright to keep them from getting too relaxed.

What are the habits of mind we would like to transplant into our inner gardens?
Love? Joy? Calm? Gratitude?
We do this, not under the full-sun scorching heat of our critical minds, but with the gentle attitude of kindness.
"Oh, this habit of complaining doesn't really change anything."
"Oh, this habit of desire actually leads to stress."

Experiment.
Look closely at some of your favorite habits-of-mind.
Are they actually getting in your way? Casually lounging over your path? Preventing you from walking your walk?
Recognize them for what they are: stress (probably in disguise).
Be kind to yourself.

Milkweed Roots

My friend Melissa spent 3 hours yesterday digging milkweed roots out of her flowerbed. First, she dug down about a foot into clay, which she doesn't otherwise find in her garden. Then she followed the root, which can run for up to 7 feet. All along the strand of root, buds are forming, which will become plants next year.

Our unskillful habits are also deeply rooted. Rather than becoming dismayed by all the weeds in your garden, choose just one to focus on and become acquainted with.

Lust? Impulse buying? Complaining? Impatience? Zinger opinions? Wishy-washiness?

Spend an hour, or 3, noticing when this habit arises. Don't just tug on it when it comes over you--that's like pulling up milkweed. The results are temporary, and the root is still sprouting below ground. Instead, pay attention and become interested enough that you follow the root feeling. Feel how this habit feels in your body. Relax into that uncomfortable place.

Milkweed is a little bit toxic and can cause dermatitis in some people. Notice if you are "allergic" to the emotion behind the habit.

Rooting out unskillful habits takes patience. It also requires renunciation of the path of least resistance. Neurons that fire together wire together, and our unskillful habits have laid down a well-worn neuronal pathway that is actually impersonal.

Beating up on yourself for an unskillful habit only lays down the tracks for beating up on yourself. What's the use of that?

Practice the kindness of mindfulness. With mindfulness, we weed our garden, one weed at a time.