Dragon's Tongue

Every day this week, i have received an email with a photo of an unknown plant. "What's this?" the sender asks.

If i gave them the plant, i know the answer, but about once a week, i get a total oddball. "My daughter was out for a walk in the city where she lives, and she wants to know what this is."

I recognized the "tongue," so that's what i googled: Dragon's tongue. Yes, that's exactly what it is: Dracunculis vulgaris. Well, it is rather vulgar. One well-known catalog markets it as the Dracula plant. It smells like rotting meat in order to attract pollinating flies. Well, that's one way to make a living.

Sometimes, it's difficult to recognize one of our own rotten feelings. This is where a therapist comes in handy to help us articulate what that mushy, don't-quite-know feeling, really uncomfortable feeling is.

Meditation is great for de-stressing, but sometimes it dredges up some rotten stuff that we buried long ago in hopes of never having to deal with it. But we can't go around it. We have to go through it, and going through it mindfully often discharges it bit by bit.

Dragon's tongue may rivet my attention, but i don't think i want one in my garden.

Pollinating

Walking through a London park, i saw dandelions hiding among perennial sage. The cheery yellow flowers made me smile, and when i looked more closely the little bee made me smile even more.

What is it that you want to pollinate in your life? Cheerfulness? Or stinging comments? What do you want more of in your life?

I keep angling toward happiness. My particular flavor tends to feel more like cheerfulness. How does happiness feel to you?

Oranges on the Orange Tree

When our friend David moved out of his apartment a year ago, he gave me his potted orange tree. In the summer, i set it outdoors with the other houseplants. Now, it is loaded with little oranges the size of big marbles. These "oranges" don't actually taste good; they're all skin. But it is fun to see a little 3-foot tree loaded with little oranges.

Outdoors, during the summer, the wonderful-smelling orange blossoms were naturally pollinated; something that happened indoors only with the aid of a Q-tip.

When we are first beginning our meditation practice, it may feel as awkward as pollinating orange blossoms. Is this the way you do it? Eventually, we find our meditation community, and then things start to happen "naturally" as we surround ourselves with the Dharma and people who talk about Wise Action. In several more months, we begin to see the fruits of our practice. A bit more calm. Fewer regrettable words. Labeling our emotions. Practicing kindness.

Tropical fruit to warm our hearts, even on a cold and snowy winter day.

Photo from annies-garden.com