Flower Chaplain

 The pots of tulips i planted in December were shooting green, so i brought some of them indoors to bud. 

My sweetie and i are making a jail break next week-- flying to Florida. So i delivered 3 pots of budding tulips last evening--one to a grieving widow, one to a cancer survivor, one to an always-helpful friend. Call me the Flower Chaplain.

A handful of my friends are chaplains, and i've wondered whether i could be one. But i don't have quite the right personality type. No matter. 

I can offer the hope of spring to those who are ill, the message of change to those who are grieving.

Red Tulips

Red Tulips

by Denise Levertov

Red tulips

living into their death
flushed with a wild blue

tulips
becoming wings
ears of the wind
jackrabbits rolling their eyes

west wind shaking the loose pane

some petals fall
with that sound one
listens for.

A Tu-lip Kiss

Yesterday i delivered 4 pots of tulips to friends.

One friend has a terminal illness and is jumping through the medical hoops so he can take "the pill" if he so desires--probably within the next 2 months. One pot of tulips to my masseuse. Oh, i could really use a massage about now. I stopped by to visit an extrovert couple who love company. We sat outdoors on their deck, about 10 feet apart. And the last one to a neighbor.

I've never been good at "dropping by" anyone's home, but yesterday i had the time to go out of my way and meander home. It didn't really take that long to stop and deliver some flowery cheer and exchange a few words--from a distance. I rather like this slowed-down pace.

The tulips have to serve as my virtual hug and kiss on the cheek.

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.

Cold Last Night

Last night, the temperature here dropped to 21 degrees, so yesterday afternoon, i brought many of my potted tulips indoors. Now, i'm waiting for them to bloom in another week or two.

My sweetie and i are also waiting to see if the virus "blooms" in us. We flew home a week ago. Yes? Or no? The answer is "Don't know."

Consider how many thousands of things we don't know.
What am i eating for lunch? Don't know.
When will i take a nap? Don't know.
Where will i take a walk today? Don't know.

Those little don't-knows don't bother my mind. But then the mind latches on to one don't-know and keeps touching it like worry beads.

I open to not knowing.

Can you say that and feel it?

I am not willing to open to not knowing, because....

List whatever comes to mind. No judgment. Just listen to your list.

Infinite Not Knowing.

How does that feel?

Even the tulips do not know when they will bloom.

Tulips in Flowerpots

In December, i planted tulip bulbs in flowerpots and set them in the garage. Now, they are six inches tall, so i'm bringing some inside to hurry up their blooms. The others are sitting in the waiting room of the front step.

Some of us bloom early, some late. Some of us zoom through school and hurry into adulthood. Some of us lag behind. Some careers take off, and some don't. Some bodies die faster than others.

Patience is the name of the game. Trust that Life (or whatever you may call it) is taking care of us.

Even the outdoor tulips will bloom eventually.

Cool May

May's refrigerator weather is keeping the daffodils in bloom even as the next roll-out of mid-spring blooms arrive--tulips, money plant, apple trees. The result is a feast for the eyes. Flowers everywhere you look.

As much as some people lament the cool weather, this British-style climates gives us British-style gardens: Everything blooming at the same time.

Keeping our cool is a learned skill for most of us, and it requires changing our perception, specifically changing our belief about something unpleasant.

Something unpleasant happens (cool weather), and we gripe and complain and wish for something different from what is. We can change our perception simply by practicing gratitude. It's so fabulously May out there! Keep up the gratitude for at least 30 seconds, and re-install every time the mind drifts into snarkiness.

This is one way we can learn to keep our cool and enjoy the cool weather of May.

The Postage Stamp Garden

Just a year ago, i took a truckload of plants to a 34-year-old former neighbor, Kristin, who now lives in Somerville, Massachusetts--the most densely populated city in New England. Her garden area is just 12'x10'--a postage stamp of a garden.

While we were planting, several neighbors stopped to see what we were doing and to admire the baby garden.

Here's how the toddler garden looks, a year later. The rhubarb hides the foundation neatly and makes a nice backdrop for red tulips.

Alas,  Kristin's life is in transition. She and her sweetie are moving to Maine this summer, so that he can go to medical school. Good-bye sweet little garden. All things are impermanent.

Hello new garden, wherever you may be.

Naked Gardening Day

Today is World Naked Gardening Day. Just you and your garden, together in the buff. No one other than the tulips and rhubarb needs to see you.

Naked Gardening Day is not about beautiful bodies. It could be about noticing that even beautiful bodies are not actually beautiful. The bag of skin holds muscles and bones together. Muscles look like meat, which is not particularly beautiful. And bones look like skeletons, which are not beautiful either.

The body serves us well for all these decades. If we take a close look, we might realize that our 70 percent water bodies are not different from the water out of the tap, in the hose, or in the birdbath. The air that passes into our nostrils and bodies is no different than the air that surrounds us. The "earth" element of our bodies--including calcium, phosphorus, and batches of trace minerals--are no different than the chemical elements around us.

So, why exactly, do we compare our body with anyone else's body? What's the point? Rather, compare your body to a river or to your garden, because all of our bodies are composed of the same material elements.

Be one with Nature, today!

The Little Spring Bulbs

Pink Chionodoxa and Pushkinia

I have always wanted a flower garden with all the early spring little bulbs.  Finally, i have a lightly strewn carpet of pale pinks and pale blues.

It didn't happen overnight. It's taken four years to fill up a small flower bed with miniature daffodils, chionodoxa, squill, pushkinia, and small wild tulips. What has worked is to buy the bulbs in the fall, start them in flowerpots in my garage, and then place them in the flowerbed in early April when i can see what else is blooming where.

We start filling up our daily routine with mindfulness--a little mindfulness here, a little mindfulness there, and pretty soon, we have a whole garden, a whole hour, a whole day guided by mindfulness.

Giving Brings Joy

Tomorrow we leave for a 2-week vacation. I've given away a dozen pots of blooming tulips. Now 3 amaryllis are budding, so it would be nice to find homestays for them so that someone else can enjoy their blooms while we are away.

Giving flowers is a form of generosity where it is so easy to feel the Buddha's words.

“Generosity brings happiness at every stage of its expression. 

• We experience joy in forming the intention to be generous. 
• We experience joy in the actual act of giving something. 
• And we experience joy in remembering the fact that we have given.”

I've got joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart.

Cool Tulips

My pots of tulips that i forced in the garage over the winter are blooming. Every day, i put them outside on the front step for a day of early spring temperatures, a bit of breeze, and a sprinkle. Every evening as temperatures drop below freezing, i bring a dozen pots indoors to spend the night in my mud room, which is a bit cooler than the rest of the house.

My pots of tulips are like silent pets. All this in-and-out, back-and-forth makes the tulips last for 3 weeks instead of 1 week. They like to be cool, and when they're hot, they shrug off their petals like we shrug off our sweaters when we get too warm.

When you get hot under the collar, how do you cool down? Breathe. And notice you are breathing. Take a 1-minute mini-meditation break. Notice the mood of the mind.

We don't meditate in order to chill. We meditate in order to notice the stress in our lives. We meditate to notice suffering. We don't have to do anything about it. The "doing" will happen on its own once we become aware of the sources of our suffering--news, work, relationships. We probably need less of those particular stressors in our lives.

Take a closer look. Go outdoors for a mindful walk and enjoy the cool spring breezes.

Blooming Tulips

For Valentine's Day, i gave my gardening friend Paul a pot of tulips that i had been forcing in my garage over the winter. After a month of living in the warm indoors, they are blooming.

We plant ourselves in meditation. Maybe at first, it looks like nothing is happening. But as our roots are established, as we notice the warmth of what we are doing, an insight sprouts and blooms.

A Taste for What's Good for You

My friend Samantha took me to the Duke Gardens today. We practically swam through five terraces of daffodils and tulips. So much spring packed in to these gardens. I particularly liked the red ruffled kale tucked in with the pink tulips.

It took me many years to develop a taste for kale. It always tasted too green and nutritious.Then someone told me about kale chips, and i was hooked. I love kale chips and kale salad.

Mindfulness also seemed like one of those things that's "good for you" and therefore, boring. It took a few years for me to develop a taste for mindfulness and realize the subsequent calmness really felt pretty nice.

Now i love mindfulness. Especially when i'm eating kale chips.

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.

Surprise in the Pot of Tulips

In March, i gave away several pots of tulips. Now, Paula sends me a photo of her pot of tulips (the tulips are long gone) with morning glories growing out of the pot.

Oh, yes, the joys of compost. You see, i added some of my compost to the potting soil last November when i potted up the tulip bulbs, and, well, i'm not surprised that Paula has morning glories. I have morning glories growing in my compost pile too.

Our habits of mind are planting seeds all the time. Invisible seeds that are nearly unnoticed because a habit of mind is, well, first of all, a habit. We are so accustomed to being slightly anxious, a little bit worried, slightly irritated or impatient, we have begun to think of those habits of mind as being "normal."

With mindfulness, we first of all observe our mind. Simply notice what's going on, without judgment. Notice as if your are a scientist conducting an experiment or a naturalist keeping a lookout for a skitterish specimen.

When you can identify even one habit of mind, you are really using your muscle of mindfulness.

Tulips on the Front Step

In November, i potted up about 60 pots of tulips and put them in my garage. And now i have a tulip extravaganza on my front step.

In addition to smiling every time i walk toward the front door, i also have the pleasure of giving away pots of tulips to whomever i see that day. Yesterday, i gave a pot to the receptionist at the doctor's office and the service manager at the car repair shop.

My sweetie's mother, also named Sweetie, taught him to "be good to the service," so he's always friendly with the wait-staff at a restaurant. I decided to be good to those who were offering me various services yesterday.

Generosity--it's good in the beginning, good in the middle, and good in the end.

Serene Tulips

I found a half-eaten hyacinth bulb on the sidewalk. One of the forced hyacinths, my February hyacinths, that i just planted in the ground. Some cute little rodent--squirrel or chipmunk--was eating it for breakfast.

This is the reason i plant my tulips (and hyacinths) in pots. That way i can have my tulips and a squirrel can eat them too.

Oh, for years i fought with the squirrels and chipmunks. I tried all sorts of methods to prevent them from eating my tulip bulbs. Eventually, i decided to accept things as they are. This is called serenity or equanimity.

I can have beautiful tulips on the front step, and a beautiful peaceful mind.

Hyacinths in a Pot

I planted some hyacinths in pots, kept them in the garage for 3 months, and now they are blooming. (Not in the garage!)

What a blast to see 7 hyacinths crowded into a pot and smelling heavenly. This is one way i can really see them--up close on the kitchen table.

My sweetie complains that i planted too many tulips in pots, but he is not complaining about too many potted hyacinths. (Six pots still to bloom.)

In truth, he's happy to have tulips on the deck, tulips on the front step, and tulips to give away. Being Scotch, he's a bit more thrifty or frugal or sometimes stingy than i am.

The hyacinths bring me joy, and giving them away gives me even more joy.

Planting Tulip Bulbs in Pots

I bought half-price tulip bulbs at the garden store, so today i've been potting them up. Due to critters, i now treat tulips as annuals. I'm willing to feed a chipmunk a 25-cent bulb, but i'm not willing to spend $1 per bulb to feed that cute little rodent.

When i was at the Swap Program at the landfill on Saturday morning, i picked up several biggish plastic flowerpots. I've bought a couple of bags of potting soil and some vermiculite. Mix, mix, mix. Then crowd 7 bulbs into each pot.

For the moment, the tulip-bulbs-in-pots are sitting on my front step, but after it rains, i'll move them into the garage for the winter.

Tulips are another exercise in impermanence. Still, i love to think about what my front step will look like next April.