Archives for category: gardening

I am home from work, the week is over, and it’s been raining for a couple of days now. I’m okay with that; I like rain. The house is quiet, and for now the only music are the background sounds: of rain on the roof, on the pavement outside, and on the flue and vent covers overhead, and of the tickety-tickety of my fingers on the keyboard. Dinner is heating up in the oven, nothing fancy – leftover casserole. I am tired. Relaxed. Content. Happy enough just to listen to the rain fall. In fact… happy.

I enjoyed a few minutes on the phone with my traveling partner. My dear love knows me well, and the laughs, inside jokes, and tender words were a lovely way to draw a clear line between the work day, and the weekend on an evening we won’t see each other. Tonight, in some way I don’t really know how to describe, I feel very much at home. It doesn’t much matter why, does it? This moment is simply a way station on some much longer journey, and I won’t count on this soft sensation of contentment and joy to linger indefinitely. I am here, now. I love, and I am loved in return.

Tonight, that’s enough.

The sound of rain, the feeling of home.

The sound of rain, the feeling of home.

It’s a Monday morning after a lovely weekend. I spent time in the company of friends, and tidied up my wee place after the flurry of holiday decorating; I observe a stray ornament hook on the carpet, and some out-of-place glittery stuff that I missed. I still have laundry to do.

My coffee this morning is somehow both too strong and very bitter. I am unsure what I may have done differently to get this very different result. My reaction balances gently on that moment between accepting my coffee as it is, and making a new cup; I have not decided. I continue to sip my coffee thoughtfully, and it no longer seems significant that it is not a great cup of coffee. I have moved on.

There have  been other, better coffees...

There have been other, better coffees…

Holiday preparation and shopping is generally completed. I have been enjoying the decorating, the shopping, the recipe selection and meal planning, and leisurely evenings spent drawing pen & ink holiday cards. There is no drama and no rush. Sometimes there is holiday music in the background. This morning, there is only the chiming of raindrops on the chimney pipe and bathroom vent covers and the percussion of fingers on keys.

I smile, my thoughts juxtaposing recollections of how easily my traveling partner and I share time and space together, with eager daydreams of the upcoming holiday weekend. There’s no real way to ‘do it wrong’ with us; if he comes to stay over through the entire weekend it will be wonderful, and no less wonderful if he comes and goes in whatever fashion is most comfortable for him. We’ve built something special together, and it endures whatever our momentary needs for space, time, companionship, solitude, affection or distance may be. Here, too, there are verbs involved: openness, deep listening, vulnerability, authenticity, respect, consideration, (see me sneaking the big 5 in here?), compassion, and love – love the verb, the one where each of us makes a point of treating the other well, and with our love in our actions and words. It’s quite… lovely. 🙂

Small details, moments of wonder, and taking care to treat myself well all add up to a great experience.

Small details, moments of wonder, and taking care to treat myself and others well all add up to a great experience.

My consciousness skips along, like a stone tossed just so across a pond, and I find myself thinking about fitness, diet, health, weight… here, too, I have goals, a journey, and a distance still ahead of me. I’m healthier than I had been for many years, but I am not sufficiently healthy to take such things for granted, and ideally I could stand to drop a few pounds for the benefit of overall health, and longevity – and I really would like to be around awhile longer. The holidays are not generally favored as the ideal time to start on such things – but I see it a bit differently; the holidays are part of the life I live, and as such, don’t really get excluded from being part of my experience – even my experience of managing my weight and fitness. For me, right now, it’s a pretty easy puzzle and consuming fewer calories is the puzzle piece that completes the picture, realistically [for me, at this time]. There are, again, verbs involved – and moment to moment choices. That’s where it gets more complicated, and here, too, mindfulness matters. So, step by step, choice by choice, verb by verb, I approach this ‘home stretch’ toward my goal with an eye on incremental progress over time. It’s not about “losing weight fast”, and probably for the best; the weight I lose slowly and sustainably through changes in lifestyle and habits over time tends to stay off.

I’m not unhappy with the woman in the mirror over gaining some weight back that I worked so hard to lose. There’s no follow-up on that, no excuses, no pleading or justification. I’m not upset with myself – I’m human. I’ll simply begin again. 🙂 I am very fortunate that my romantic and social relationships are of the sort that are very supportive and encouraging, and I don’t have to listen to a chorus of criticism, veiled insults, or hurtful remarks about my weight, or really any other part of my life. I live gently, and associate with people who tend to be positive and encouraging sorts of people. It probably goes without saying, but this is also a choice.

My shoulder injury impedes my ability to exercise, but I keep at it; I do my physical therapy exercises and yoga, even on days when I hurt too much to do more. My day-to-day pain is not the acute pain of injury as much as the chronic pain of… chronic pain. I do what I can to take good care of my injured shoulder, knowing that the effort is worth it. (When I finally really started caring for my ankle well, and doing what it needed most to be done, it began to heal and now I rarely have to walk with a cane, but it took years of care to get here.) The most common source of re-injury of my injured shoulder is brushing my hair; I have trouble remembering, first thing in the morning, that my right shoulder is injured – I grab my hair brush right-handed, and reach up – and ouch. Hurt again. I am considering mousing left-handed for a while, too…everything I do to ease how often I hurt that shoulder will improve how quickly it may heal.

Healthy choices are often healthy for more than one reason; the joy of carrots harvested from my garden is about more than the nutrition.

Healthy choices are often healthy for more than one reason; the joy of carrots harvested from my garden is about more than the nutrition.

My thoughts skip along further, and I find myself contemplating the conversion of life-force into dollars by way of paid effort – reimbursed verbs – and making a connection to calories. I find myself wondering how many minutes of employment equals 100 calories, and what value there may be in being more aware of that. No particular reason, it’s just where my consciousness landed for a moment, before taking flight once again. This morning, I am as a butterfly.

The word count doesn’t relevant; today has all the potential to be a lovely day. There are verbs involved. The choices matter. 🙂

What a special day this is turning out to be! It has been easy and relaxed since I woke (later than usual). I feel content, and connected – and very much as though I’ve spent the day in the company of a dear friend, someone close, of long-standing history and shared experience…only… it’s just been me, hanging out on my own. Still, I feel more connected, generally, and more comfortable with myself and with other people.

A bit of gardening and a lovely walk.

A bit of gardening and a lovely walk.

There’s been nothing extraordinary about the things I am doing today. I spent quite a long time on yoga this morning, and enjoyed a light bite of brunch a bit later. I enjoyed a long autumn walk in the sunshine, the air was chilly and still, carrying the scent of pine and marsh, and distant hearths. I saw a beaver up close – it was the first time I’ve seen one so close. The dam he is building is quite large. I found myself wondering if he has feelings about it, as a home, or as the outcome of his effort, and wondering, too, what is the nature of the thoughts of animals. I mused for a long while about the nature of consciousness as I walked.

A dam is a complicated feat. I find myself wondering if a beaver's life's work has meaning for the beaver.

A dam is a complicated feat. I find myself wondering if a beaver’s life’s work has meaning for the beaver.

There were berries, and roses hips of many colors, and drifts of autumn leaves along the way. There were flooded paths, birds of prey, children, dogs, and squirrels at play. I walked farther than I planned; I kept changing my destination to something just a bit further down the path as I walked. I decided to turn back when the sunny sky took a gray turn, hinting at an evening that I knew would come earlier than it did yesterday.

Colorful berries and vines remain after all the leaves have fallen.

Colorful berries and vines remain after all the leaves have fallen.

I arrived home feeling very connected to the world I live in, and sit here even now feeling differently about life in some subtle way…as though I had an incredibly eye-opening and insightful conversation with someone I trust completely, and learned something deeply meaningful. I don’t think this particular feeling has any more or less value than other feelings. It is very pleasant and moving in a positive way. I am content to enjoy this moment for as long as it lasts. Enjoying it utterly, and savoring the experience of it is a practice worth practicing. 🙂

It’s morning, and the start of a new work week. I have my coffee, and I sip it contentedly contemplating the good night’s rest behind me, the work day ahead, and the reassuring joy knowing that my traveling partner will return from afar sometime today – although I won’t see him, myself, until tomorrow it feels good to know he will soon be near.

Light and flowers; I am fascinated by light as a metaphor for gnosis.

Light and flowers; I am fascinated by light as a metaphor for gnosis.

Love is not ‘forever’, generally; it is, only as long as it is, at which point it discontinues being. Some loves are brutally slaughtered by the will or disregard of participants. Some loves fade due to lack of investment or involvement. Some loves linger, maintained and managed, nurtured and valued, until all those doing that loving have passed on from the living to the dead – and a love like that may seem infinite, because all those touched by it recognize something remarkable and it lingers in their recollection. So…not quite infinite, certainly no more infinite than the yearnings that keep the desire for love ever in our attention, and at the top of so many to do lists. I am rambling on about love, although my thoughts were elsewhere, infinity-wise, until my traveling partner pinged me a cheery good morning; hearing from him, of course my thoughts are of love. 🙂

Raindrops on a rose named

Raindrops on a rose named “X-rated”.

I am sipping my coffee and thinking about life’s infinite journey; each day a new experience, each moment my own to engage, to enjoy, to savor, and I am offered a seemingly infinite series of such days, one after the after, each new… It’s not forever, though. My time is now, and will be until…yeah. Death. We are mortal. Life feels continuous. The journey itself seems strangely timeless in some moments, as though it does quite literally go on ‘forever’. Day after day. Moment upon moment. Thoughts. Emotions. Experiences. Dreams. Then, one day, I won’t wake up for another. Approximately infinite, because while my journey continues along a seemingly endless timeline of moments, at some point I, myself, am finite. I sip my coffee, still feeling quite content. Questions of ‘what then?’ don’t distress me; I am here, now. Perhaps there is something, perhaps there is nothing, in either case I am here, now, living my life and generally that’s enough. I haven’t learned all there is to know, yet. I haven’t found my way to the wisest possible perspective, yet. I haven’t mastered the practices upon which I build my contentment in life. I haven’t run out of ideas for paintings – nor exhausted the nearly endless supply of inspiration that fuels that creative work. I haven’t answered all the questions – or even figured out all the best questions to ask. I have not made an intimate sustainable connection with all the worthy beings with whom I might do so in one lifetime. I have not mastered love, Love, and loving – nor have I mastered The Art of Being. There is plenty to do, to experience, and to achieve in this one mortal lifetime – and how magical that there is no rush? Each moment its own, worthy of being savored… Each day unique, worthy of being explored… Each love, each lover, entirely individual and quite special, and worthy of being cherished – however things end. Aren’t we each many beginnings and endings, as beings?

Timeless questions; their greatest value is in the asking.

Timeless questions. Random thoughts. A series of moments.

I’m just saying. It’s a journey – the journey is the destination, and there’s more than enough time to take it moment by moment, awake, aware, alive; we reach the conclusion soon enough without hurrying. Being in this moment, now, and only this one, tends to slow the clock just a bit…or…approximately, seemingly so. I enjoy living most when I let ‘urgency’ fall by the wayside; nothing is more urgent than living my life well, and enjoying each moment I can, and learning something of value from those less enjoyable moments along the way.

When I rush, I so easily miss small things that hold great promise.

When I rush, I so easily miss small things that hold great promise.

So…this morning I sip my coffee, listening to the trickle of the aquarium, and the hushed sounds of the start of commuter traffic on a busy street somewhat near by, and watching the sky turn from night to day outside my patio door. I am unconcerned with other moments than this one, now. It’s a nice enough moment, as moments go, and somewhat uneventful. A moment on a Monday morning, worthy of being, but not in any way spectacular…letting even such a moment slip away unappreciated, unnoticed, un-lived would shorten my mortal journey in some subtle way…perhaps that’s the point I’m really getting at this morning; now is infinite. Well. Approximately infinite. 🙂

Look deeper. What matters most?

Look deeper. What matters most?

Today is a good day to be engaged in the moment, and living life beautifully. Today is a good day to move forward on my journey. Today is a good day to be reassured that however many minutes of my journey I may share with others, the journey I make is, itself, entirely my own. Today is a good day to choose, to question, and to walk on.  Today is a good day to live without waiting for the right set of circumstances.

With the return of the rain, I have a sense that autumn approaches; seasons change.

With the return of the rain, I have a sense that autumn approaches; seasons change.

It’s after noon. I am making another cup of coffee; it’s a process that will go much faster once I actually turn on the stove to heat the water. 🙂 I have a  headache, and a feeling of bone-deep fatigue that has crept over me since I woke some 5 hours ago.

Generally speaking, the errands setting up the new week are already behind me; I could just stop now, and relax if I choose, without any ill consequence being obviously predictable. Even the grocery shopping for the upcoming week, based on a definite shift in nutritional and calorie content, is completed – at least I think it is, from the vantage point of here, now, and not hungry. There are still things on my ‘to do list’ – but there always are. These days that’s generally a weekly versus daily list, and I pluck things from the list parked on Sunday’s calendar all week long. Figuring out how I use my time, idealized for my own needs living alone, is an ongoing process.

Healthier options include growing my own food to nourish my body and spirit, both.

Healthier options include growing some of my own food to nourish my body and spirit, both.

Figuring out food is an ongoing process too. I like to eat well, and have impulse control issues; it’s not an ideal combination for my longer term health and fitness. As a treat tonight, and to use the remainder of an open box of pasta, I plan to have a simple meal of pasta tossed with Greek seasoning, cubes of fresh goat cheddar, and delicious ripe grape tomatoes and zucchini from my garden. The pantry is stocked with healthy things. The ingredients on hand do not easily support recipes for rich calorie-laden sweets. The ‘fruit bowl’ on the counter has just enough fruit to consume during the week, and durable veggies like onions, sweet potatoes, and not-yet-ripe avocados. Any attempt to over-indulge in sweets, desserts, or calorie-rich exotic meals will be thwarted by the lack of suitable ingredients on hand. 🙂 Additional effort as time-delay works well for me, and is a favored form of ‘positive self-sabotage’; if I have to go to the store for a bunch of stuff to make something ‘special’, I’m pretty likely to default to healthier options as I think it through during the ‘planning stage’.

Time spent in tending the patio garden means fresh herbs for cooking, and a fresh perspective on the day.

Time spent in tending the patio garden means fresh herbs for cooking, and a fresh perspective on the day.

These are pretty mundane sorts of observations, I know. The weekend winds down finding me feeling discontent with the outcome of a number of details, and rather than sink deeper into an irritable funk, I figured I’d just talk through some of the things that are going pretty well. 😉

The headache finds me listening to much quieter music this afternoon. It is another way I am treating myself well, after a very late and somewhat disappointing night. The coffee helps with the headache, and I take time to review my self-care checklist and get on track with practices that I know support my day-to-day feeling of wellness and contentment: writing and meditation are the two big ones in this moment.

I am ever the beginner, practicing the simple practices.

I am ever the beginner, practicing the simple practices.

It is often the case if I am feeling discontent, disconnected, or dissatisfied, it is meditation that helps most, and most quickly. There’s some amusement in that for me; as little as 2 and a half years ago I would have said that meditation ‘doesn’t work for me’ and that ‘I’ve tried that’. I could not have been more mistaken. I was completely overlooking the varied sorts and styles of meditation that exist, and that they do not all achieve the same end, or function in the same way. I didn’t understand the nature of practicing the practices, or that meditation is a practice, not a task to complete with a goal of ‘mastery’ to achieve success. I held on to the understanding of meditation as a noun, and I was not yet acquainted with the understanding that it is most certainly very much a verb.

I meditate a lot. I don’t have a commitment to fancy guided meditations, or very particular structured routines dependent on a unique seating arrangement or location. I don’t follow a set specific approach trademarked by one learned elder or another. I haven’t learned a foreign language to describe what I am doing or to receive profound teachings from an expert from afar. I don’t travel to a studio to meditate with a group, or spend any money on my meditation practice. I have not actually “progressed” beyond that simplest of meditations focused on breath, for my day-to-day anytime-I-need-it meditation. It’s that simple, honestly, and that effective – it is enough [for me]. Being present, seated comfortably, focused on my breath, just being, and allowing myself to become still within is so simple…it only requires practice, and also some practice, and perhaps beyond that a bit of an investment in practicing… It sounds so simple, as verbs go, ‘to meditate’… My mind wanders. I come back to my breath. Thoughts crowd in, and feelings build around them. I come back to my breath. I find myself fidgeting sometimes, like a child, I bring my focus back to my breath. At some point…there is no more struggle, and I simply am. It does require practice. It sounds ‘easier’ than it ‘is’…but it isn’t manual labor, and any frustration is itself simply another feeling coming up, and I return to my breath when it does. Does this all sound very ‘pointless’ or repetitive? That’s okay, too. It gets me what I need; stillness, and a calm within that builds emotional resilience over time, and slowly teaches me perspective while it somehow insulates my reactive nervous system from the effect of small things going awry. “Meditation works for me.” This is what I mean by that (if that’s vague or annoying grammatically, please imagine I have drawn a red arrow back to the start of the paragraph). 🙂

Few things are more annoying that a venue filled with people on their phones while an artist is performing; I took this picture before the performance began, and decided to put my phone away and just be there, in the moment.

I took this picture before the performance began, then decided to put my phone away and be fully present in the moment.

I am tired and short on sleep today. The concert, itself, was a bit disappointing and I chose to leave before the band I went to see even played; I was in too much pain to wait through the tedium as the opening act continued to recycle tired beats for yet another hour (3 hours was enough). By midnight, it was no longer worth the time or discomfort to remain at the venue as it became progressively more crowded, and stifling hot on top of my own pain. Disappointed? Sure. Annoyed, mostly. If there had been adequate expectation setting in the advertising that the headliner would not go on stage until after midnight I’d have planned accordingly and gone much later.  Worse, the opening act spent the last hour repeatedly playing what sounded like the end of his set, and behaving as though he was wrapping things up…then continuing. That was actually having an emotional effect on many of the people around me, as well; no one was there to see the opening act, and we were all eager to see the headliner. Still, it was an evening out, and that was itself an adventure that was generally quite positive and fun. Tales for another time, perhaps.

Building contentment over a coffee in the garden.

Building contentment over a coffee in the garden.

The simplest practices that sustain and nurture me are often the ones I am most keenly aware of when I miss a step; this morning, waking with some eager enthusiasm for the day, I rushed off on errands without taking time for meditation, for writing, or even for a second cup of coffee. I’ve felt vaguely irritated and rushed ever since. There’s a lesson there, and it’s time to catch up – and slow down. 🙂