Chickadee Grief

I am grieving a crippled chickadee, whom I last saw on Monday, March 8. Her wings were fluttering that day, as if she had lost even more mobility in her legs and toes. For a month, she had been skooching on the deck or railing like a double amputee in India sitting on cardboard and propelling himself with his hands.

That Monday morning, she was hanging upside down by her toes. In previous days, I had seen her grip a branch or wire with both toes and slowly slide backwards until she was upside down. She would flutter her wings to bring herself back to upright. She repeated these chin-ups five or ten times. She was panting; I could see her back wing feathers move up and down two or three times a second.

That last morning, I put sunflower seeds in the coffee grinder and ground them finely. She didn't seem to have the leverage to peck a sunflower seed to bits. Usually a chickadee holds a sunflower seed between her two feet and pecks and pecks at it. Chickadee beaks are very small. Other birds swallow sunflower hearts whole, but the chickadee breaks it into bits and eats the bits.

Her handicap enabled me to distinguish one chickadee from the dozen that visit our birdfeeder, distinguish her from the two or three chickadees that eat out of my hand.

I knew the end was near. I didn't see her the rest of that day. I kept looking for her all week. Then I had to admit she was gone. Gone.

The next day the weather was warm. Oh, if only she could have lived to feel warm weather. Had her feet frozen one zero degree night? I would never know.

I try to assuage my grief with various stories. Already she has returned to earth somewhere. Already some creature has eaten her corpse. Already she has been incorporated into owl or possum. The life cycle has moved, and I am stuck in missing her.

Tri-Color Kalanchoe

My tri-color kalanchoe is blooming. It's an ornamental plant i put in my flowerpots at the front door in the summer, where it pokes along, but doesn't bloom. Until now, when snow is on the ground, and it's 12 degrees outdoors.

Somehow the conditions are right in my solarium with radiant heat in the floor. Passive solar gain through the big windows tends to bake the plants in the solarium.

What are the conditions that help meditation bloom in your life?

One friend is thinking it's time to get back into the meditation groove again, so she's taking a half-day Zoom retreat this weekend.

There are so many Zoom opportunities for meditating with a group or going on retreat--for 3 hours, for a day, or a week.

Let your meditation practice bloom with an additional sit. Your heart will feel warmer.

Snow Globe

It snows. It stops snowing. Big, fat flakes fall from heaven. Then the snow globe stops shaking, and everything settles down. Until more feathery flakes fall.

I love snow globes. And i love Mother Nature shaking out her feather pillows with feathery snow falling gently and generously to earth.

The snow globe i live in is white and full of privilege. I have everything i need. I am safe. I am warm. I am alive!

Thank you Mother Nature.

Welcome Friend

 
I stuffed a glass gazing globe with a string of white fairy lights and set it in a ceramic flowerpot beside the front door. The warm light is welcoming. I find i prefer the glow to the brightness of a porch light. Besides, who is coming to visit in the evenings? No one.

No one drops by for a visit after dark. My sweetie and i are seldom out after dark ourselves. We are tucked in to our warm home by sunset.

Still, the welcome mat is out. 

Can we put out the welcome mat in our hearts? Welcome each new person like a friend. Welcome each new event, whether or not it's what we want. Welcome Life as it flows through us. Welcome this moment, this hour, this day. Just as it is.

Vacation Day

 Merry Rainy Day. 55 degrees and 2 inches of rain, which melted our 20 inches of snow. 

I took advantage of the thaw to run out to the garden and dig up more Jerusalem artichokes and pull the last of the turnips. Now there is truly nothing remaining in the garden. Nothing. Empty.

Still, i feel delighted to wander around my garden. Some green growing plants give me joy as a warm southern breeze melts more snow.

Winter returns tomorrow. But today, we had a vacation.

Welcome and Unwelcome

 This morning i meditated outdoors on the deck at 6:00 a.m. The temperature was balmy and the breeze light. The sun didn't rise until after meditation ended at 7:00.

Welcome December.

I haven't meditated outdoors for more than a month, but if it's over 50 degrees, i sit on the deck and meditate with the birds and the squirrel. (They are doing eating meditation.)

It's too warm for December, and that's unwelcome, but the day was delightful. So easy to spend it outdoors doing some more last-minute chores. Putting up Christmas lights was fun.

We welcome even the unwelcome.

Excelsior

 A package came filled with excelsior a few years ago. What to do with excelsior? 

I tried to give it to the Swap Program at the landfill, thinking some craft person would know what to do with it. They rejected it. Last spring, i was desperate for mulch in my vegetable garden, so i took it out there, but never used it. Finally, i know what i'm going to do with it.

Store my turnips.

Turnips are supposed to be stored in a cool place, just above 32 degrees. My basement, at 55 degrees, is too warm. I'm packing my turnips in excelsior, and i'll store them in the garage. My garage is nine degrees warmer than outdoors, so the turnips should be okay until bitter cold arrives.

Excelsior means "very fine wood shavings," but it is also the motto of the state of New York, meaning "Ever upward."

How can we train our mental habits "ever upward"? How do we choose and take the high road?

One way is to practice the paramis--the paramount qualities of mind: Generosity. Integrity. Relinquishment. Wisdom. Energy. Patience. Truth. Resolve. Loving-Friendliness. Equanimity.

Excelsior! Let's live in accord with our highest intentions. Let's surround ourselves (and my turnips) with excelsior.

The Wind

 

Just before the rain, the wind  blows beautifully. A cool warm wind. I lie in the hammock and watch clouds skid across the sky. 

It's heaven out near the vegetable garden, surrounded by red- and yellow-leaved trees. I'm wearing long sleeves, but the temperature is just right. 

The wind blows the Cheryl-ness out of me until i can feel the clouds skating across the sky also skating through my chest. It's wonderfully wild in the great outdoors.

Big Move

The big move is happening. The seasons are changing. Potatoes and winter squash have been drying in the woodshed, along with the gladiolus corms. Now it's time for everything to move to the basement, so that the wood can start coming into the woodshed.

Onions and garlic are already in the basement, but i have to shuffle them around to make room for incoming vegetables. I need more shelf space.

They say that wood warms you twice: once when you stack it and once when you burn it. Potatoes and squash aren't nearly as heavy, but there's a lot of up and down on the basement stairs. Good exercise!

Change. It's the only thing that's constant.

Hellebore is Blooming

Hellebore niger, also called Christmas rose, is blooming now. I much prefer niger to the usual Hellebore orientalis, which blooms later. The "Christmas rose" can be found at my food co-op in December, but in the spring i can't find it anywhere.

The niger blossoms face out as opposed to the facing-down flowers of orientalis. Perhaps orientalis is shy? Perhaps it doesn't want to look me straight in the eye?

When we gaze into someone's eyes for several seconds, we receive a burst of oxytocin--the bonding hormone. As a result, we feel warm and friendly and maybe even love for the other.

Try gazing at a dear one for a few seconds longer than usual. Or be really daring and gaze at someone you don't know very well. How does that feel?

When Hellebore niger blooms so early in the sprint, it's a sight for sore eyes.

Hellebore orientalis

Tulip Bouquet

When we returned home from our Caribbean vacation, we found a bouquet of tulips in the kitchen from our house-sitter. What a lovely and generous gift.

The house was warm and clean. Tulips on the table. Welcome home!

How would it feel to welcome every event? Welcome snow. Welcome slippery roads. Welcome seeing. Welcome hearing. Welcome feeling. Welcome thoughts.

Welcoming everything is another way to come home to our true self.

Fragrant Nicotiana

I sit out on my deck in the dark on these warm September nights and listen to the chorus of crickets and tree frogs. I smell the overpowering sweetness of flowering tobacco (Nicotiana), an annual which liberally reseeds itself every year. Just a few years ago, i realized the Nicotiana was out at the vegetable garden, but since it releases its fragrance at night, it should really be blooming near the deck, the front step and the back step.

The right flower in the right place. Ahh. Now there's a challenge. Are we in the right place for us? The right place to meditate regularly? To exercise regularly? To calm our minds and to be mindful?

Where is the right place for us to flower?

Snake Skin

Last evening was cool, so i fired up the woodstove. In between the first two logs i pulled out of the woodshed was a snake skin. Which gives the word "woodshed" a whole new meaning now that a snake has shed its skin in it.

I am shedding my summer clothes in favor of long sleeves and corduroy pants and fleece vests.

A change of seasons. A change of skins. From warm bare skin to cool.

Summer changes slowly, quickly to autumn. Wriggle out of warmth into a new day of freshness.

Columns of Water

This weekend i visited a greenhouse that has plexiglass columns of water as its inside wall. During the day, the sun heats up the greenhouse, the tile floor, and the columns of water. During the night, the tile floor and the water columns release their accumulated heat back into the room full of houseplants.

These columns of water emit a translucence of light from the adjoining room.

We practice meditation and warm our heart with loving-kindness meditation that warms the people around us.

Be a beacon of light in these cold-hearted times. Warm yourself and others with kindness. Let your heart light shine.

Rain Ruin

Rain every day. It feels like we live in the tropics--warm and wet. The sun shines, then we have a downpour. Repeat two or three times a day.

The daily rain ruins flowers fast. The geraniums on my front step bloom, then turn brown the next day. A day without rain and suddenly the petunias look very pink and perky. Then it rains, and they droop again.

When the rain of our life falls on us, we may cry, we may spend a lot of time crying, yet with the support of the Dharma, with the support of meditation, we find an inner strength. We might not bloom exactly, but we can thrive anyway.

As Shinzen Young says, meditation is not a quick and easy fix. But it's a deep fix.

Water your roots deeply with daily meditation.

Flocks of Snowbirds

People from the North Country who head south for the winter are called snowbirds, but the real snowbirds, juncos, are having a population explosion this year. Someone who did the local Christmas Bird Count counted thousands of juncos last week.

These beautiful slate gray birds are ground feeders, so i throw some sunflower seeds onto the deck just for the joy of seeing these sleek birds.

People-snowbirds flock to warmth, but flocks of these junco-snowbirds seem to love to hop around in the snow.

Birds of a feather flock together. Let's flock together with our spiritual friends for the warmth of friendship on these chilly days.

Cyclamen: Warm & Chilly

On the left: Kept in the kitchen. On the right: Kept in a chilly room.

In December, i gave a talk on holiday plants. I encouraged people to keep their cyclamen in a cool spot. Joanna did an experiment. She bought 2 cyclamens at the same time.She placed one cyclamen in her kitchen, near the wood stove. The other one she put in her study, which is too chilly for her to use in the winter. Three months later, here are the results. The leggy cyclamen with no flowers is the warm one. The compact fabulously blooming cyclamen has been living at 50 degrees.

It's counter-intuitive that warmth would lead to legginess and no blooms at all, and that chilly leads to continued blooming. It's almost as though too much pleasantness leads to a "lazy" plant. Resilience comes from a seemingly difficult climate.

This conforms to my experience. My siblings and i have a high level of resilience, perhaps partly due to a slightly chilly upbringing. Children who are accustomed to having everything provided for them lose their vigor. Uber-protection can lead to a lack of resilience.

Resilience is a key factor in happiness--happiness despite outer conditions.

Crocuses on the Septic Tank

Leaves on top of the rock marking the septic tank lid. (Upper left)

The crocuses on the septic tank are blooming. That's the warmest spot in the lawn. Yippee! It's official. Spring is here. These septic tank crocuses are the very first spring flower, and they don't seem to mind being the leader. They shine in all their glory.

Sometimes, we have to take the lead in certain situations. For some, this is easy; for some, taking the lead is unwanted and unsought. Still, taking the lead in kindness and generosity is beneficial for everyone involved, even if you are the only one practicing it.

Kindness and generosity are two beautiful mind states, blooming in the warmth of friendliness.

November Indian Summer

November and we are having a beautiful Indian summer--days when outdoors feels wonderfully warm. My California friend, Sam, who does not particularly like the weather in the Northeast, is wearing shorts while i'm in corduroys and perspiring.

I think of Indian summer as September or October. This early November is surprisingly lovely and warm.

Many trees are bare. The oaks have lost their beautiful red sheen and turned brown. A few poplars shake their round yellow leaves. I live in a grove of beech, which cling to their copper leaves all winter. I never thought i'd say it: browns are beautiful.

Nowadays, many of us experience aging like Indian summer. Yes, we are past the half-way mark, maybe past the three-quarters mark of our years, yet we too remain warm and lively. Some of our friends have lost all their leaves. Our own skin is sprinkled with brown age spots. The end of the year is coming. Winter is coming. We know that. But today is warm and heavenly.