The Stress of Too Much

Back in February and March, i rooted cuttings of many of my houseplants. Eventually i had 25 flats in my solarium.

Early in May i began to plant them out, edging various flowerbeds. I decreased the number of flats from 25 to 7, and then i got stuck. I didn't know where to plant these last ones. What do you do with 35 baby geraniums?

This morning i gritted my teeth and just did it--10 dusty millers, a dozen purple wandering jew, all those little geraniums.

This is the stress of too much. Too many cuttings. This past weekend, I gave a flat of variegated ivy cuttings to the library plant sale.

I have too many clothes, actually. Too many clothes is also stressful. It's time to give some more clothes to the hospice thrift store.

The solarium is practically empty. Almost empty of stress.

A Bath of Mindfulness

In order to make way for the Christmas tree, a few hanging plants had to find temporary homes elsewhere--the bathtub.

The bathtub on the first floor is seldom used anymore. It is extremely convenient for watering the plants. In fact, the Swedish ivy, the variegated ivy, and the arrow-leaf philodendron are looking better than they have since their summer vacation outdoors. Maybe they should just continue to live in the bathtub?

Bathing ourselves in mindfulness makes us calmer and less stressed.
Take a bath in mindfulness today.

P.S. (Yes, that plaid tile is from the 1970s.)

Ivy Desire

Last week i couldn't resist buying a very cute Christmas ivy plant. The ivy twines around a circle of shiny balls and gifts. I rationalized that i would give the ivy as a present to someone, but now Christmas is over, and the ivy is still sitting on the window sill.

Maybe i am giving it as a present to myself?

Apparently 1/3 of our Christmas shopping is for ourselves. "I just want to treat myself," we say, as if we needed more treats. We know how we feel about the Halloween bag of treats: Too much sugar! Too many Christmas gift-treats leads us to the same slightly ill feeling when we review our credit card bill in the new year.

Desire is a strong feeling, and it clings like Velcro. Notice the ceasing of desire; notice how it slides away like Teflon. Desire ceases once we have the object of our desire in our grasp. Notice the end of desire. Notice the lack of desire a moment or a day or a week after you've made your purchase. Every desire ends.

Desire wraps its tendrils around us like ivy, and we feel powerless. Notice that.