The Meditative Gardener is on Retreat

I will return on Monday, May 23.

Unusual Edging Plants for the Flower Beds

Callisia fragrans or Basket plant

Those houseplants that i took cuttings from in February, rooted in jars, and potted up in March are now ready to go outdoors. Spider plant and Diamond Frost euphorbia edge my white garden. Callisia and geraniums edge another little flower bed. All these annual bedding plants for free.

One of the qualities of loving-kindness is to be frugal. Another pair of loving-kindness qualities is to be contented and easily satisfied.

These free plants certainly meet the frugal qualification. And i am feeling contented with these lovely and unusual edging plants.

Energy Leaks

People look at my gardens and say, "Where do you get your energy?" I could say, "From the garden." But i could also say, "I've sealed off a bunch of energy leaks." I don't listen to the news. I spend fewer than 2 minutes a day on Facebook. I don't watch TV or videos. I also try not to think and overthink situations in my life. I don't worry. Etcetera.

My friend Evelyn, age 80, tells me that she's thinning out the stuff in her condo. "Every thing, every possession takes energy." O-o-h-h-h. Right. I have several piles of incomplete projects. I glance at each one and feel unpleasant and think Later. This goes on for months and years. My mending basket, for instance. Stacks of photos. Incomplete manuscripts.

Our energy leaks out of our lives, all over the place. Then we are too tired. Then we "don't have enough time" for meditation.

What's the most important thing in your life? What do you love the most? Wouldn't you really rather spend your energy there?

Since the Dharma is the most important thing to me, i had better tend to my Dharma garden.

A Rainbow of Potatoes

I planted potatoes yesterday--red, gold, and blue--while the moon is still waning. If you believe in planting by the moon, underground vegetables, such as potatoes, onions, carrots, beets, and parsnips, grow better when they are planted in the dark of the moon.

My sweetie hasn't liked potatoes because, he says, "they are starchy." But now that he has a bushel of allergies, potatoes are one of the few vegetables he can eat. That makes me happy: i remain a steadfast lover of potatoes.

I cut up the seed potatoes, leaving 2 eyes in each piece. Then i waited for 24 hours to plant them, eyes up.

Oh, if only we ourselves could "see in dark." The potatoes have to feel their way through the soil. They have no idea what color they are. To them, it makes no difference. For just a moment, can you feel your way through the (scary?) dark and feel the is-ness of life without words or labels?

I Hoed a Toad

This morning, while planting potatoes, i hoed a little
toad right out of the ground. She was surprised, and i was surprised.

Maybe you've felt sort of stunned yourself. For instance, when you're on retreat and something unexpectedly bubbles up from the sub-conscious or the unconscious. Maybe it's sort of ugly, which is a good reason to have repressed it all this time.

I just reviewed the last 12 hours of my father's life (18 years ago), and i suddenly saw it in an entirely different light.

Bringing things to light is part of what is called the purification process. We purify our minds, just like water is purified.

Surprising, yes! And unexpected. And lighter. I feel lighter without that dark thing hiding underground.

Gazing Globe on the Ground

A silver gazing globe blew off its stand a couple of weeks ago, and i haven't picked it up. It sits there on the ground waiting for me to decide what to do. This morning 2 little sparrows were running around it, looking at themselves in "the mirror" and scaring themselves

Isn't this exactly what we do when we worry? We look into our mirror-mind, which is simply a big projection screen, and we see... An intruder! An intruder into our space! (Never mind that this thought is a creation of the mind.)

Like those little brown birds, the redpolls, we jump, we startle. And we keep replaying the event, the situation in our mind. Running around and around the gazing globe mirror. Aaagghhh!!!

We fail to notice the places where we don't see our projection in the mirror-mind. There's one good viewpoint, and we keep going back to it. Notice that space, the place where the thought is not. That's the place of Wise View.

Ramps for Lunch

I dug ramps today. Ramps, also called wild leeks, are one of the earliest foods to forage from the forest. Ramps smell like garlic, but cooking quickly dilutes the garlic flavor. If you're making ramp pesto, do NOT add garlic.

It feels appropriate, this day-after-Earth-Day to dig my lunch out of the earth--ramps sauteed in butter with pasta, which is not me, and not mine.

Earth "element"--of leeks--goes in my mouth. Still not me and not mine.

Sometime tomorrow, an unrecognized version of earth element--my composted lunch--will exit via the trapdoor at the bottom of my torso. Earth element returns to earth. Still not me and not mine.

Ramps--a fun meditation on the relationship of how my body is entirely dependent on the earth.