I'm teaching a class on The Neuroscience of Love, Happiness, and Wisdom, and, in the first chapter of our textbook, it says,
Neurons that fire together wire together.

In case you are allergic to the word "science," let me translate that statement into gardener's language:
"You reap what you sow."

In our stressed-out society (read: S.O.S.), we are all planting worry, anxiety, fear, irritation, and doubt. Of course, all of our inner gardens look different, but generally we harvest the same crops: stress and distress.

Our body-mind was built to respond to a sabertooth tiger once a week or once a day, not several times every minute. Our mind responds to its paper tigers with the same fight-or-flight-or-freeze response that our ancestors used for real, live tigers. The cortisol and adrenalin that squirts into our system activates our big muscle groups to get ready to fight or flee. To do this, it cheats our other systems of nourishment--our immune system, gastrointestinal system, cardiovascular system, and endocrine system. After a few decades, the cheated system starts to limp along with high blood pressure, colitis, or chronic fatigue.

Let's use our big muscle groups to take us out to the garden where we can relax our body and calm our mind. Give stress a vacation (for at least a few minutes). Sit on your deck and breathe.

Photo from www.yardflower.com

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.

Stinky Compost

When i talk about my book, at a book signing, for instance, the conversation often veers off into compost. What's the best method? "It depends" is my answer.

If you're a city/town dweller, then you probably want one of those black plastic units. Our landfill sells them for a cheaper price than you can buy them in the catalog.

If you live in bear country (and there are more and more reports of bears nearby), then you want a really big, heavy, black plastic unit that the lid screws on to. The bears may roll it away, but they (hopefully) won't be able to get into it.

I live in the country, so i have 3 open bins--each made of 4 pallets that are simply tied together in a square with clothesline. E-Z. Yes, critters come to the pile. I see chipmunks and bluejays picking their way through it in the morning, and i'm sure raccoons come at night. Last evening, i made my final run to the compost pile at 9 p.m. and beaned a skunk on the nose with a watermelon rind. I didn't stick around for a closer sighting, once i saw that furry white tail start to twitch. When my sweetie came home 15 minutes later, he said he smelled skunk.

Our thoughts and actions go into a "compost pile" from moment to moment. A thought arises, then it passes. A deed happens, then it's over. Even though it's gone, gone, really gone, it leaves the track of its valence. A wholesome thought or deed--of kindness or generosity--lays the path for more wholesome thoughts and deeds. An unwholesome thought or deed lays the pathway for more of the same. In the language of neuroscience, "Neurons that fire together, wire together." In the language of gardeners, "You reap what you sow."

So be careful what you compost. Those stinky thoughts may come back to haunt you.