First Frost

The first frost felled the annuals last night. And yesterday, i signed up for my Medicare supplement. In the world of meaning-making, (and i do love metaphors), i might cogitate on the season of frost arriving in my body and in my hair.

Today dawned clear and sunny; it's a beautiful day, and i am happy to be alive. My body runs well; i take it in for preventive maintenance (exercise, massage, physical exams) on a regular basis.  I eat vegetables straight from the garden.

The next frost isn't forecast for 2 more weeks. My body could run 2 more weeks, 2 more months, 2 more years, or 2 more decades before the "frost" falls on it.

You just never know.

Muted Foliage

This year's fashions come in bright, bold colors. This year's foliage is muted around here. Rare is the sight of the brilliant red/orange sugar maple. The predominant colors are yellows and greens accented with a few dusty reds.

We are disappointed.

Disappointed is another word for stress. We wanted one thing--brilliant foliage; we experience something else--hillsides of yellow and green.
We want one thing, life unfolds as it is.

Wouldn't it be so much easier and so much less stress to simply accept things as they are?

Let's bask in the beauty of what is.
Green & gold.
Ahhh.

In the Midst of Devastation, a Flower Blooms

I just discovered a petunia blooming at the corner of our new garage.

When i think of the trees that were felled in April, the excavation, earth-moving, concrete pouring, and backfilling of June, the back-and-forth tromping of carpenters to build the frame in June, the painting of the siding (and paint spills by yours truly) of July, the baking of the August sun, and the still-unfinished final grading of September--amidst all this devastation, a flower blooms.

The ground is a desert of gravel, rocky subsoil, and cement-truck runoff for a radius of 15 feet, and a flower blooms there.

When we are devastated, when the loss is deep and great, or when we feel a desert has encroached upon our heart and we have been desertified, even then, a flower can bloom.

The Dharma is the soil; daily meditation is the sunshine that lightens up the bleekness; meditating once a week with a friend provides the rain for a flower to bloom in your heart.

And this shocking-pink petunia perfectly matches the trim on the new garage :)

Good Advice

My mother told me never to wear red and purple together, but a purple morning glory twining around red salvia is absolutely eye-popping. I quite like it, and i keep looking out the window at it because it's so satisfying.

My mother gave me a lot of good advice--like "Smile with your eyes"--but some of her advice was either wrong or woefully insufficient.

Once we are launched into adulthood, who do we turn to for good advice? Where do we find our sources of wisdom?

Friends. The media. Magazines. The internet. Peers. I find most of the usual sources at least somewhat unsatisfactory.

The Buddha said that our Noble Friends and the Noble Conversations we have with them are ALL of the spiritual life. Who are our Noble Friends? With whom can we have Noble Conversations?

Sorry, Mom. I really like red with purple.

Internal Weather

We're living in a rain forest this week. Or as they call it in Costa Rica, a cloud forest. Mist and drizzle has been nearly continuous for several days.

Usually, a steady mist makes things green--as it does in the Pacific Northwest and in Ireland--but we are in the red/orange/yellow time of year here in the North Country--colors that look great against a blue sky.

Even though temperatures in in the 60s, i feel cool in this misty, cloudy weather, and wear long sleeves and long pants.

What mood permeates your own internal weather? Neuroscientists have delineated 6 emotional styles* that they can "see" in their pictures of the brain.

Resilience:
Do you bounce back quickly from upsets and downturns?
Or do you have a slow recovery such that upsets and downturns continue to bother and worry and plague you for hours or days?

Outlook:
Are you a bright optimist?
Or a dark pessimist?
(Or somewhere in between?)

Social Intuition:
Are you frequently puzzled by the actions and words of people around you?
Or do you have the ability to see right through people and thereby navigate toward what you want?

Self-Awareness:
Are you unable to put words to how you feel? How do you feel anyway?
Or are you quite aware of your emotions and articulate?

Sensitivity to Context:
Are you tuned out to your environment? (Perhaps like the absent-minded professor?)
Or are you tuned in to the needs and requirements of social situations?

Attention:
Does your attention wander? Is it unfocused?
Are you able to focus in and concentrate easily?

What's your internal weather?

Mindfulness meditation can help us shift our natural tendencies. The ADHD person begins to feel calmer. The dark pessimist begins to brighten.

Today, i think i'll turn up the internal brightness by expressing gratitude and sending loving-kindness to myself.


*The 6 Emotional Styles come from the work of Richard Davidson and his book The Emotional Life of Your Brain.

Change of Seasons

Yesterday i refurbished my front step. I brought all the flowering pots indoors, swept off the stoop and the steps, and began arranging pots of mums, a pumpkin, and 2 dozen birdhouse gourds. This rearrangement is my formal acknowledgment of the change of seasons.

The lush pots of overflowing flowers and vines, of many varieties, are now inside. Outside, the front steps look rather like a monoculture by comparison.

Isn't this what we hope for as our own seasons change? By the time we reach the autumn of our life, our exterior may look only nominally like it used to. But inside, we want a lush harvest of wisdom, calm, and equanimity.

Living an authentic life and living an ethical life leads us closer to our intention. Practicing kindness--to ourselves and others--is the first step to awakening in our lives.

I'm going to be kind to my solarium full of plants and water them this sunny day.

Unannounced Visitors

Red Russian kale has reseeded itself in a flowerbed near the vegetable garden. What a surprise to see this vegetable volunteering to grow where it wasn't planted. I quite like these "perennial" vegetables (and herbs like cilantro) that just show up unannounced, like a surprise visit from a good friend walking in the front door. "Yoo-hoo. Anybody home?"

Yes, the garden looks rather higgledy-piggledy--kale (and mustard and arugula and tomatillos and cilantro) in a flowerbed. My goodness!

The goodness that our meditation inspires begins to show up in all the corners of our lives.
Calmness in the face of multi-tasking.
Patience when you're stuck in traffic.
Not catching the hot potato of irritation or blame that your nearest and dearest throws at you.

These beneficial qualities show up unannounced.
And our practice flowers.

Photo from anniesannuals.com