Your Houseplants Slow Dance

 Time-lapse photography shows houseplants dance. It's a slow motion dance, but their leaves are constantly, imperceptibly moving throughout the day. A video of prayer plant and oxalis next to a clock demonstrates the continual slow dance of houseplants.

We look at a houseplant and think Oh, I know what my philodendron looks like. Look again. And again.

Nothing stands still--not even our houseplants that are pot-bound, house-bound, and perhaps root-bound. The pots aren't moving, but their occupants are.

We think we are sitting still--sort of. Standing still. But we are in constant movement in and around our home. Our bodies are in constant motion--breathing, eyes blinking, heart beating. Every thought tenses some little or big muscles in the body.

We think we are sitting still and the world is moving around us. Look again.

Doubting Tulips

 I ordered tulips last month--not to plant in the ground. When i don't know [fill-in-the-blank], i come to a complete halt. Doubt assails me.

Where would i plant tulips? Where could i plant tulips? I have no idea. I do not know.

It's interesting to realize that my obstacle is doubt. Previously i would have called it procrastination, but that carries a judgment. My bad, which pretty soon feels like i'm bad for not planting tulips.

But doubt is a different mind quality. Doubt is a worthy opponent. I watch its characteristics. I-don't-know mind  stops me in my tracks. 

Knowing the ways of the I-don't-know mind, i can predict when doubt will show up, and i can guess what will come next. In my case, it's dullness. One obstacle gives rise to another. If this happens in meditation, i doze off. If it happens in the garden, i forget the tulip bulbs.

But i've figured out a way around doubt. My work-around is to plant the tulips in pots and winter them over in the garage. I'll decide where to plant them next spring.

Don't Know Daffodils

My gardening friend Ruth divided the white daffodils near her front door and gave me a small bucket of bulbs in September.

Where to plant them? In the white garden. But where exactly?

Not knowing the answer, i potted them up. I now have 18 pots of daffodils, which will spend the winter in the garage. For now, they are still outdoors and being rained on today.

Don't-know is one of the most difficult mind states for me. I want to know! Yet the daffodils don't know either. They simply grow where they are planted. Pots today. Next April i will plop them in the ground after i see where other white daffodils are located.

I have 6 months of not-knowing ahead of me. The daffodils are simply resting comfortably in their not-knowing.

My Tulips are Blooming

The tulips i forced in pots and brought indoors are starting to bloom. So outdoors they go, because they will last longer in the refrigerator weather out there.

The bulbs, which have been hiding out in the gloom of the garage for 4 months, are out in the open air. I think that's a good sign for me, who has been quarantined at home for less than 2 weeks.

Today i was out in a neighbor's woods, cutting down saplings with a friend. We stayed at least 6 feet apart from each other's saws. We are clearing the understory to allow more light and air.

That's what we all need: more light and more air.

Tulip Bulbs in the Dark

Post-Thanksgiving, tulip bulbs are on sale, 50% off. I buy 50 bulbs, pot them up into 10 flowerpots, and next week do the same thing. My garage has 4 rows of pots sitting on the floor between the car and the truck, waiting for spring equinox when they can come out of hiding.

The tulip bulbs are buried in the darkness of the soil. December 7 is the earliest sunset of the year, at 4:16 p.m. Oh, the night seems long when darkness begins in late afternoon.

It's time for us to gestate, meditate, contemplate the dark. We can't see clearly in the dark, but we can feel. Feel the closeness, the surround, perhaps the coolness. Float in the dark of not-knowing, trusting that eventually the light returns.

Tulip Bulbs in Pots

On my birthday, 2 weeks ago, i admitted my guilty pleasure to you--buying tulip bulbs to force in pots in the garage. Well, what with one thing and then another, including a tiny post-election depression, those tulip bulbs were still sitting in their bags. Until today.

Today, i'm potting up tulip bulbs as fast as i can. So far, i have 16 pots. And i am feeling happy. Potting tulips is definitely the remedy for draggy spirits.

Next March, when the tulips are blooming in their pots on the front step, i'll be very happy about this birthday/Christmas present to myself.

Too Late to Plant Bulbs

Yesterday, on the last above-freezing day, i finally put all my spring bulbs into the ground. People often ask me if it's too late to plant bulbs. "You can plant as long as the ground isn't frozen," i say.

Today the ground is frozen. Today it's too late to plant bulbs.

I planted most of my bulbs in pots, which are now hibernating in my garage. Next spring, when they bloom, i'll be able to pop them into the ground, exactly where i want them.

Now, with no more gardening projects hanging loose, i too can hibernate. For me, that means a tropical vacation with my sweetie, followed by a one-month self-retreat.

While our energy is dormant is a good time to go on retreat. Where and when are you going?

Little Spring Bulbs

They say animals return to places where they have previously found food. Bears will return to your compost pile. I can vouch that raccoons and squirrels return to the birdfeeder.

Myself? I return to the garden center to buy a few more winter bulbs to pot up. I'm done with Dutch tulips. I've found one nursery that still has a supply of small bulbs--scilla, puschkinia, and those dwarf Turkish tulips that i love.

This shopping for bulbs has all the hallmarks of craving: I plan where and when i'm going to the garden center days in advance; I make sure i have enough time to stop, that i'm not in a hurry; I buy just a few packages of bulbs, trying to fool myself into thinking i have control over the situation.

Oh, i have a wonderful rationale, which my mind just latched on to: If i plant these bulbs in pots, then i can put them exactly where i want them in the spring. You have to admit: that's a very good rationalization.

I am craving spring flowers.

Simply notice that.

Puschkinia and Scilla (Siberian squill)

Tulip violacea