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.

That Sneaky Invasive Weed

Last summer I weeded a patch of bishop's weed (Aegopodium) out of one of my flower beds. This invasive grows from the tiniest piece of root left in the ground. Usually I cremate my bucket full of bishop's weed in my wood stove, but it was July. I set the bucket aside. I forgot about it. The bucket looked brown and dead in August. Then it was rained on and became a putrid mess. I forgot about it some more. There the bucket stayed, behind my compost pile, all winter long.

This morning, I wanted to use the bucket, so I picked it up, and little green leaves were sprouting inside the bucket. Now, I took the slightly soggy clump into the wood stove for cremation tonight. This invasive will start growing again the minute my back is turned.

When we are ready to root out the weeds of our mind, we have to be assiduous. We don't need to hate the enemy weed; that's useless, a waste of our energy, and only builds the unwholesome habit of hatred.

We keep our attention on our inner weed patch and perhaps root it out as best we can. And when it sprouts again, as it will, we renew our attention. We refocus our intention: I don't want that weed in my mind-garden, thank you very much. We want the flowers of kindness, patience, and investigation. So we practice kindness and patience toward this unwanted, unwholesome habit. Then, we are building our kindness and patience muscles.

I'll feel the burn tonight when it's chilly.

Rats!

Rats have arrived in my neck of the woods. My neighbor, who has chickens, saw a rat yesterday in her chicken coop, followed quickly by a mink who chased the rat across the lawn, caught it by the neck, and took it home to the baby minks for breakfast.

Living in the woods, i expect a certain seclusion--no traffic goes past my house--and i enjoy the wildlife. Now i expand my definition of wildlife to include rats.

This new "neighbor" with its unsavory reputation has moved in. If i resist and cry "Not in my back yard!" my mind suffers the conflict of I-don't-want with but-I-have. What we resist, persists.

After all, i'm also neighbor to a mink.

Mulch Those Bad Habits

April showers bring May flowers. Or, in this El Nino year, April flowers. What joy to see flower gardens springing to life. Color in the spring garden is made more dramatic by a background of mulch. The little yellow daffodils really stand out against the dark brown mulch, which looks like fresh dirt. In the beds that haven't been mulched yet, the daffodils are lost in the tan leaf litter--they are hard to see and just not as striking.

When we mulch our bad habits and unwholesome words and deeds, our kindness stands out beautifully.

The Promise of Pansies

Violas are a smaller form of pansies.

The farm stand is open for the season and selling pansies! That's about all they are selling right now--pansies, bulbs, and seeds. All with the promise of flowers and future flowers.

I'm just home from a fantastic week-long meditation retreat. The practice instructions were clear and hold promise for reducing my stress so that seeds of wisdom and kindfulness can bloom in my life.

The Meditative Gardener is on Retreat

I'll return to this space on April 11.

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.