Baby, It's Cold Out There

The rhododendrons are talking to us. Baby, it's cold out here. With temperatures in the single digits, i agree.

The rhododendrons have folded up their leaves for warmth. We can find inner warmth in our heart. 

By opening our heart, we feel warmly toward people, pets, and places. And, as ever, what the world needs now is love, sweet love. It's the only thing that so little of is expressed.

Start with gratitude and feel whether a little spark, a little ember glows somewhere in the body--maybe around the heart, maybe in the hands or the belly.

Experiment with spreading that warmth throughout the body. Feel the sensations in the body and keep your attention there.

Eventually, the sun will warm the rhododendrons. Meanwhile, I'm sending warmth to you, dear reader.

 

Clogged Openness

Our 3-week-old Christmas tree hasn't lost any needles yet. My sweetie has been watering the tree with boiling water. The other day, the tree drank almost all the tea kettle. Supposedly, boiling water melts the resin that clogs the pores in the stump.

The 91-year-old neighbor who taught us this trick said her tree sprouts new growth in February.

What clogs up our own openness?

We try to protect our feelings, our hearts, and our sense of self. We each have our own methods--irritation, anxiety, denial, or many others.

We can warm up our heart, perhaps simply by placing our hand on our heart. "Yes, yes. There, there now."

Our heart melts, and we too can have the resilience of new (personal) growth.