The season of collecting seeds has arrived. Since i love to plant seeds, i also like to collect them. I hunt around the nasturtiums for little wrinkled tan balls that are smaller than peas. I shake annual poppy heads into a bowl and soon i have handfuls of black poppy seeds that i could bake with if i wanted to.
I make a special effort to collect seeds from the biennial plants i love--lupine, hollyhock, angelica, foxglove, sweet william. I want these flowers to return to my garden, so i boost my chances of seeing them again by nurturing their re-seeding.
Many seeds i simply lay in a nursery bed because i know they are hardy enough to raise themselves. A few, perhaps those that are new to me, i will start in 6-packs next late winter.
What are the seeds that we want to grow in our spiritual life? Patience? Generosity? Mindfulness? Go ahead. Plant your favorite seed now. Today. Plant the intention. Water daily, both in and out of meditation. Notice the tender sprouts.
May your gardens--inner and outer--be blessed.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Harvesting Farmers Markets
Harvest Festivals abound this long weekend. Every small town around me has at least one. Also, as of this summer, each little town (population 2,000 more or less) has its own Farmers' Market. Friends--whom i wouldn't have suspected--have a booth selling basil chevre and "cinnful" rolls. Last week i bought a very local frozen chicken and a bag of pears.
These markets are as fun as markets have been for centuries. Visit friends and acquaintance while live toe-tapping music plays in the background. Sweet savories are sold at 2 or 3 booths. Then there's the Thai food booth--red curry, green curry, or fish curry--as well as Mexican tamales or burritos.
Right Livelihood is one step of the Noble 8-fold Path. By supporting our (usually) organic neighbors, we enable them to make a living while their localvore food sustains our own life.
These markets are as fun as markets have been for centuries. Visit friends and acquaintance while live toe-tapping music plays in the background. Sweet savories are sold at 2 or 3 booths. Then there's the Thai food booth--red curry, green curry, or fish curry--as well as Mexican tamales or burritos.
Right Livelihood is one step of the Noble 8-fold Path. By supporting our (usually) organic neighbors, we enable them to make a living while their localvore food sustains our own life.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The Elements of Nature
Jack Frost crept into the flower beds last night and laid down a freezing blanket over the low spots. Fortunately, i garden in the foothills, and my sweetie has created "frost drains" so that the cold air can continue flowing downhill instead of eddying on top of the vegetable garden.
Since air is (usually) invisible, it's intriguing to think of cold air flowing downhill like water, while warm air rises. When the land flattens out, cold air "ponds."
We think of our bodies simply as bodies. Yet water percolates through the rivers and (blood) streams of our body, "ponding" (in the stomach) and "bogging" (in the kidneys), until it finally drains out at the downhill end of the torso.
Air also circulates through the body. Just as our gardens are subject to the elements of heat, water, and wind, our bodies are also subject to the vagaries of heat, water, and air. The elements are inside our body as well as outside. So what's the difference? Does the apparent boundary of skin actually differentiate "my elements" from "others"? Aren't they all simply "ours"?
Since air is (usually) invisible, it's intriguing to think of cold air flowing downhill like water, while warm air rises. When the land flattens out, cold air "ponds."
We think of our bodies simply as bodies. Yet water percolates through the rivers and (blood) streams of our body, "ponding" (in the stomach) and "bogging" (in the kidneys), until it finally drains out at the downhill end of the torso.
Air also circulates through the body. Just as our gardens are subject to the elements of heat, water, and wind, our bodies are also subject to the vagaries of heat, water, and air. The elements are inside our body as well as outside. So what's the difference? Does the apparent boundary of skin actually differentiate "my elements" from "others"? Aren't they all simply "ours"?
Friday, October 8, 2010
End of a Season
Peppers and eggplant like it hot. Now that cool weather has arrived with refrigerator nights, the peppers simply hang on their bushes. Many have turned red, thanks to the length of the season. Eggplants are small, and it's tempting to think they will continue to grow in size--but highly unlikely. Having seen marble-sized eggplant in Thailand, i pick even the thumb-size eggplants, knowing i can cook something with them.
This season reminds me of the end of my parents' lives. I couldn't imagine life leaving them, yet life was definitely waning. No medical intervention could stop that downhill slide.
No amount of hope can reverse the path of the sun as daylight slides into darkness earlier every day.
This season reminds me of the end of my parents' lives. I couldn't imagine life leaving them, yet life was definitely waning. No medical intervention could stop that downhill slide.
No amount of hope can reverse the path of the sun as daylight slides into darkness earlier every day.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Change of Season
The houseplants have come indoors after spending their summer in the great out-of-doors. The hot-weather vegetable plants--cucumber, tomato, pepper--are done for. Even the flower bed is looking rather piqued.
The change of season has been quietly announcing itself every day, but all of a sudden, change is quite noticeable--in the browning leaves, the cooler weather, the shorter days.
The body-mind also changes moment-to-moment, but we somehow don't "see" the change until it is marked. A girl blooms into a woman; a boy grows taller than his parents. Marriage, birth of a child, menopause, grandparenthood. Then the golden years turn into old, old age.
The garden has reached its old, old age, still creeping along, producing a few flowers, a few vegetables, until the life force is overwhelmed by the elements--cold, wind, lack of light--and dissipates by giving its own heat, its own earth body, its own 70% water, its own breath of air back to the earth.
The change of season has been quietly announcing itself every day, but all of a sudden, change is quite noticeable--in the browning leaves, the cooler weather, the shorter days.
The body-mind also changes moment-to-moment, but we somehow don't "see" the change until it is marked. A girl blooms into a woman; a boy grows taller than his parents. Marriage, birth of a child, menopause, grandparenthood. Then the golden years turn into old, old age.
The garden has reached its old, old age, still creeping along, producing a few flowers, a few vegetables, until the life force is overwhelmed by the elements--cold, wind, lack of light--and dissipates by giving its own heat, its own earth body, its own 70% water, its own breath of air back to the earth.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Transplant NOW
Transplanting season has finally arrived. Slightly cooler weather or overcast skies, at least, plus a bit of rain--NOW is the time to move plants around.
Many gardeners may have thrown their hands up in the air weeks ago. "I give up." But October and into November are just as good for gardening as April and March.
Now when the full-court press is off the vegetable garden, and it simply goes on growing cool-weather crops, now is the time to return my attention to the flower gardens.
For those who stick to a meditation practice, the season comes when the habit of sitting has grown and become steady enough that we can turn our attention to insight practices. (Check out The Meditative Gardener for a whole book-ful of them.)
Now is when we harvest the fruits of our spiritual path and even plant seeds for fruits--and flowers--that will bloom in some other season of our lives.
Many gardeners may have thrown their hands up in the air weeks ago. "I give up." But October and into November are just as good for gardening as April and March.
Now when the full-court press is off the vegetable garden, and it simply goes on growing cool-weather crops, now is the time to return my attention to the flower gardens.
For those who stick to a meditation practice, the season comes when the habit of sitting has grown and become steady enough that we can turn our attention to insight practices. (Check out The Meditative Gardener for a whole book-ful of them.)
Now is when we harvest the fruits of our spiritual path and even plant seeds for fruits--and flowers--that will bloom in some other season of our lives.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Garden Surprise
It's a good thing i like surprises.
Last spring i took buckets of compost to my community garden plot. I only planted winter squash and pumpkins there, since i figured they wouldn't need much care.
By July i had a forest of tomatillos growing among the squash. That didn't surprise me. My compost has jillions of tomatillo seeds ust as our mind has a lifetime of habits and experiences from which grows our next thought, our next action, and the next words that spring off our tongues.
By August, the squash were thoroughly parched by the drought.
Now i'm harvesting--3 winter squash, bushels of tomatillos, and growing right beside the garden gate, ground cherries! Also called Cape gooseberries, these little yellow-orange globes combine the sweetness and size of berries with a hint of tangy tomato-pineapple. Hiding in a paper husk, these little treasures loved the heat that this summer excelled in.
I offer these surprises to my community garden mates and watch them smile.
Last spring i took buckets of compost to my community garden plot. I only planted winter squash and pumpkins there, since i figured they wouldn't need much care.
By July i had a forest of tomatillos growing among the squash. That didn't surprise me. My compost has jillions of tomatillo seeds ust as our mind has a lifetime of habits and experiences from which grows our next thought, our next action, and the next words that spring off our tongues.
By August, the squash were thoroughly parched by the drought.
Now i'm harvesting--3 winter squash, bushels of tomatillos, and growing right beside the garden gate, ground cherries! Also called Cape gooseberries, these little yellow-orange globes combine the sweetness and size of berries with a hint of tangy tomato-pineapple. Hiding in a paper husk, these little treasures loved the heat that this summer excelled in.
I offer these surprises to my community garden mates and watch them smile.
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