Sugar on Snow

Due to COVID, there's no Winter Carnival this year. No ski jumping contest in town. But more importantly, no Sugar on Snow.

In New England, Sugar on Snow means packing a bowl with snow and pouring boiling maple syrup on top. The syrup hardens and forms taffy. Chewy and sweet.

As so often during this past year, i decided to DIY--make my own.

Boil the maple syrup to 235 degree (soft ball stage on a candy thermometer).

Pack a bowl with snow. Last night's snow was light and fluffy. This morning's snow is heavy and wet. Heavy is good.

Pour the hot syrup over the snow.

Spiritual practice is another DIY thing. No one else can do it for you. You already know the recipe.

Meditate or pray. 20" a day is a good start. Use a timer.

Read a spiritual book.

Meet with your spiritual friends at least once a week and meditate together.

The heart softens, and practicing kindness becomes easier and easier.

Extruding Ice

 

We hiked on a wet hillside on a 33 degree day, and ice crunched underfoot. The water had frozen into ribbons of ice called extrusions. Water, which would normally be in the ground, expanded as it froze and "grew" or extruded out of the ground. Continued water seepage underground forces the extrusions up above the soil and leaf litter.

It looks like i'm hiking on crystals. It sounds very crunchy.

An oft-repeated behavior--gesture or word or thought--crystalizes into a habit. The habit hardens into our character and becomes our personality. That's who we think we are. By the time we're old, our personality can be downright crunchy. Perhaps you know someone like this.

Let the water flow through your life. Let Life flow through your life.

Big Root

One of my favorite groundcovers is geranium macrorrhizum, which is just finishing blooming. The simple flowers aren't that interesting, but the leaves smell wonderfully of geranium. I could roll around in a bed of this geranium. Or just rub leaves on my wrists and throat every time i walk past it. Ahhh!

Macrorrhizum means "big root." Macro = big.
Rhizum = rhizome, which is a root that sends up shoots as it grows horizontally.

What is your big root? What roots you into this life? Place? Family? Friends? Job? Spiritual practice?

What's your big root of stress? Family? Friends? Job? Health?

Simply notice your biggest stressor. Usually it has to do with not wanting whatever Life is offering. Wanting something different that what is.

The geranium macro-rhizum grows in sun or shade, wet or dry soils. I wonder if i could just simply bloom where ever i am planted?

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.

Opinions About Rain

It's raining today. Raining steadily. The forecast for the coming week is cloudy and rainy. I'm hearing lots of complaints. We want Spring! We want May! We want blooming flowers. We want to be outdoors in the garden.

Do you notice how we resist the present moment? This wet present moment.

The rain may be unpleasant--it's chilly; it's wet; it's raw. Not liking it only adds to our suffering and increases our stress.

We don't need to have any opinion at all. Imagine that! It's raining. Period. No opinion. No judgment. Only the feeling of unpleasantness.

I gaze out the window with a cup of tea in my hand. Raindrops dying in quick succession.

Cutting Back Bulb Foliage

After 36 hours of rain, i waded into a few flowerbeds and came out soaking wet. I did something daring: i cut back bulb foliage (daffodils, hyacinths, and leucojum) while it is still green. I got tired of looking at all that strappy foliage lying down. There it is again: Every good thing (April-flowering bulbs) is accompanied by trouble (strappy foliage in June.)

The flowerbeds look so much better now that the old foliage has been cut down. I just hope this good thing (Ahhh! A cleaned-up flowerbed) isn't accompanied by trouble next spring (a paucity of flowers due to insufficient foliage).