Archives for posts with tag: gardening

Still counting down, and I woke this morning acutely aware that in just two more days, I turn 50… ‘the end of the first half’. lol. This morning was a strange one. I spent it in solitary meditation watching wee fish swim, and in the greenhouse, watering seedlings, and in the rose garden quietly tending roses that got so little from me over the weekend. I sipped my coffee. Shared a wave and a smile with a neighbor in passing. Watched the dawn unfold to day, and went on in to work.

Work is… work. Today I am earning my living – and then some. Busy getting ahead, for a few days off to celebrate me.

There will likely never be a time in my life when it is appropriate to ‘share everything’ I’ve been through with any one other human being – and I’m not sure how many could withstand the tale without considerable heartbreak. Blech. Let’s not, shall we? Perhaps it is enough – and maybe all I ever truly needed – if I honor and respect my own experience, and value myself for having endured what I have, and managing to turn out decently well, over time, after a fashion, in spite of it all? I used to think I needed others to be understood, others to ‘feel heard’, others to feel supported and nurtured, to ‘make me happy’… but I’m not at all sure of any of that now. It seems quite possible that I needed to understand, myself, to hear my own words to respect my own heart, to treat my self with compassion. Certainly, now that I am learning to do so, and succeeding more often, and more consistently, much of what I felt I was missing turns out not to be missing at all – it’s simply best sought from within. 😀

I’m excited to be turning 50. To be ‘finishing the first half’. I’ve sort of muddled through it; had some wins, had some losses, some successes, some failures, some pain, some joy… I have some better notions of what to do with me now. I have a path. I have an experience. So…

Another lovely garden.

Another lovely garden.

My day started gently, easily, and of course – before my alarm went off. lol. It’s new to sleep so deeply, or it seems so. The trickling and bubbling of the aquarium in my bedroom seems to go a step beyond lulling me to sleep. As with rain on the roof or windows, it seems to ease the snarling of ancient demons, and my sleep is less disturbed. It’s quite lovely. I enjoy that first few minutes when the light comes on, seeing the tiny contained universe suddenly illuminated delights me every morning. I had initially hesitated to take on the additional complexity of a planted freshwater community, but wow I do love a garden!

Another garden to tend, to love, to rest in...

Another garden to tend, to love, to rest in…

Today is just 6 days to 50… and today feels very nice. Yesterday finished well, in the warm embrace of friendship and affection and laughter. The night was easy. The morning, chill.  I’m in a lot of pain today, but it seems as near to irrelevant to my experience as pain ever can be. Quite a nice day… I feel contented, and calm, and balanced.  My appreciation for this lovely ‘now’ is definitely enhanced by the recent more difficult days/moments…so, less to say and more to experience…

 

Wow. I dislike what ‘news’ has become.  Political corruption? Hardly news-worthy, it’s an everyday thing, and it will continue to be for as long as we elect corrupt or corruptible human beings to positions of power.  It would be nice if a politician had to accept that role with the clear contractual understanding that he or she could not ever personally profit from that role in a direct way, or if anyone in power were ever actually held accountable for what they themselves force the nation to endure by their decisions or actions.  This is not an article about politics, or news.   I found it profoundly adult to hear Angelina Jolie go public with her account of choosing a double mastectomy over her very high risk of aggressive breast cancer…and found myself dismayed and in some cases disgusted that anyone would choose to criticize her choice; it was hers to make. Period. It’s a shame that women without that level of income, or those resources, don’t have the opportunity, realistically, to make that choice themselves. This is not an article about breast cancer, or the limited health choices that women without means face, or feminist issues of gender-limited personal freedom and choice.  Not a day goes by that the news doesn’t have another story about rape, and equally heinously, another story about what women ‘can do to prevent being raped’; rape is prevented by people not committing non-consensual sexual acts against others, it isn’t more complicated than that. Don’t rape.  The news these days just isn’t worth reading most of the time.  Not because the information isn’t valuable, not because some of what is observed isn’t newsworthy, but because the presentation of so much information is tainted with bias of one sort or another to the point that it isn’t ‘information’ at all; it is marketing, propaganda, spin, color, or outright lies. ‘Fact-checking’ relies rather heavily on someone, somewhere, being able to tell the difference between fact and opinion. lol.

I’m frustrated by how easily my balance can be disturbed by the media. ‘News’ that is intended to distress, to frighten, to alarm, to ‘call to action’ rather than inform, advise, or enlighten isn’t ‘news’ at all – it is an attack on my consciousness. I avoid it. I ask friends to stop sending me links to things. Ah, but we all use Facebook, don’t we? Well, I still do – some very dear friends and loved ones use it as their primary form of communication, long distance.  It’s hard seeing some of the things people post. More and more of my friends use ‘trigger alerts’, which I value. I’m using them more, too.

28 days… one menstrual cycle away from being 50. lol.

Spring is still unfolding all around me. I love the walk to work in the mornings; strolling past each neighbor’s garden, seeing the flowers opening day by day, feeling the soft chill morning air against my skin, or perhaps a tender misty rain falling – like this morning.  I keep returning to my own garden, morning and evening, watering, watching, loving…

Kiss of Desire, kissed by a misty morning rain.

“Kiss of Desire”, kissed by a misty morning rain.

I love the colors of morning, and the surprises…

"Graham Thomas" blooms for the first time this year.

“Graham Thomas” blooms for the first time this year.

Last year we picked out some roses likely to do well in this garden. “Graham Thomas” was one, and already quite large and eager to take his place as master of the central flower bed.  I’m quite delighted, also, with “Ebb Tide”; covered with buds and blossoms of a rich deep purple.

"Ebb Tide" wowing me.

“Ebb Tide” wowing me.

Old favorites draw my eye, too, and I smile even thinking seeing “Baby Love” on the other end of my walk home tonight.  Selected with sentiment and love, she was the featured rose of my last garden, a much smaller space – too small for my grand plans. lol.

"Baby Love" will bloom like this through the year and well into November.

“Baby Love” will bloom like this through the year and well into November.

My garden is a sanctuary where ‘the news’ can’t reach me.  When I’m in my garden, I am in the moment, aware, engaged, and being on this extraordinary other level.  Still working on mindfulness practices I am hoping will one day be very natural in my experience, as natural as stepping into my garden.

A mystery rose.

A mystery rose.

…Life has a lot of lessons to share, a lot of mysteries to reveal. Perhaps one day I will find mindfulness an easy part of being, and figure out what that mystery rose is, or find the words to tell the world “You have no power over me.”

In the meantime, I meditate, practice mindfulness, consider my Big 5, learn better skills for taking care of me, and hope to ask the questions that reveal my own heart to me most clearly.  In between, I garden.  😀

 

I was pretty happy to see Monday arrive, this week.  My weekend was a lot of Sturm und Drang and I was frankly relieved to be done with it.  Between my hormones and rampant OPD (Other People’s Drama), the weekend was neither relaxing, nor especially productive, for me.  I’m not really complaining; some good dialogues came out of it.  (I suppose people also learn something about their driving when they are involved in a traffic  accident.)

I have to walk my own path...

I have to walk my own path…

The weekend, on the other hand, was lovely and warm and sunny. Every minute spent in the garden was wonderful.  More roses open their buds every day.

"Nozomi" (Pink Pearl) soon she'll be covered with tiny pink buds...

“Nozomi” (Pink Pearl) soon she’ll be covered with tiny pink buds…

"Nozomi" showing off her delicate blossom, for now just this one.

“Nozomi” showing off her delicate blossom, for now just this one.

I enjoyed getting down at eye level with the garden now that the weather is fair and mild, and the ground isn’t muddy.  The perspective is different, and I definitely needed a change in perspective more than once this weekend!

At ground level with the vinca, dewy from being watered.

At ground level with the vinca, dewy from being watered.

Some of the bold big blooms I am waiting on keep me waiting like an old-fashioned cliff-hanger, tempting me with a hint of color through still-tightly wrapped petals.

Most of the peonies in the neighborhood have opened; mine apparently sense my watchfulness. lol

Most of the peonies in the neighborhood have opened; mine apparently sense my watchfulness. lol

The roses are lovely, fragrant, and totally showing off.

"Ebb Tide" looking her best.

“Ebb Tide” looking her best.

"Kiss of Desire" is new in my garden this spring.

“Kiss of Desire” is new in my garden this spring.

"Secret Recipe" is an old favorite, and one of my most challenging roses to care for; she's high maintenance. lol

“Secret Recipe” is an old favorite, and one of my most challenging roses to care for; she’s high maintenance. lol

I can't take enough pictures of "Baby Love"; cute, easy, and lovely.

I can’t take enough pictures of “Baby Love”; cute, easy, and lovely.

The hummingbirds alerted one of my partners recently that I was slow to refill their feeders; one dive bombed him at garden’s edge, as he attempted to relax with his coffee! Hummingbirds are one of my favorite garden visitors, and it delights me that my garden has such wonderful tiny visitors.

I could go on and on about the garden. It is my refuge from every day stress, when I find my mindfulness and meditation practices need a helping hand. In my garden I am ‘here’ and ‘now’ in a very engaged and present and immediate way, and it feels effortless and natural.  I don’t mind the challenges in the garden; I understand them.  I don’t always understand the challenges between people, and those frustrate me much more than some powdery mildew on a rose, or a slug eating the greens, or a few days without rain.  A challenge in the garden is easy, as easy as recognizing the issue, troubleshooting the root cause (lol), developing/determining a solution, and applying the chosen solution. Repeat as needed. Why are people so much more complicated? (I’d shout that at you if I thought it would be helpful… but shouting rarely makes anything easier to hear.)  Anyway, we all know the answer if we admit it to ourselves, don’t we? Why are people so complicated? Because they choose to be.

I’m making other choices for myself these days.  I don’t always ‘get it right’. It’s not a contest. There is no ‘finish line’. There will be no awards ceremony, no report card, no pat on the back.  But I’m taking better care of me, and understanding it more when things aren’t a good fit, or my experience is unsatisfying or unpleasant. I still have more questions than answers…and that doesn’t trouble me, generally. If I’m not stressing the answers, I’m also not worried about ‘being right’, or ‘making it work’.  I’m finding it easier, much of the time, to make good choices that are tending to meet my needs over time, and improve my experience. 

I suppose there is more…but today is proving to be an odd day.  I feel the pressure of ‘things on my mind’ and I am feeling a bit fussy and raw. I have been spending too much time on OPD,  a potentially worthy investment in time because one of my needs is ‘harmony in my relationships and a calm environment to live in’, but I ended up doing so almost entirely at the expense of things I wanted to do for me, or with my partners, and I definitely committed too much limited weekend time to it.  I am very ready to have some of my other needs met.  Today is something a bit new – I’m able to recognize and understand that my subtle shift in mood toward being a bit cross isn’t about what is going on around me right now – it’s about how I handled what was going on around me in days past and that I ‘missed the mark’ on taking care of me in some way.  It is also clearly a ‘me thing’ and not about the choices or actions of others in any direct way.   (It feels good to have a better understanding of my experience, and maybe to the point of being able to make practical choices to meet my needs as a result.)  🙂

Well, having said all that… it’s on with the day, eager to return to the garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Impermanence

Like a soap-bubble frozen in glass
deep blue in the sun
sometimes a shimmer or a shadow
a change in perspective
suddenly silver like a child’s drawing of the moon
on white paper
a simple blue glass gazing ball
old-fashioned novelty
garden accent
a fragile blue glass bead big enough
for a grown up.

Is it the way of things
to leave?
to be broken?
to be cast aside no longer valued?
no longer remembered?
The best things in life seem so fragile.

I will not see this blue ball again in my garden.
A replacement for another broken ball.
Tears falling.
Each one a precious something
or other
remembered for a fleeting moment of sorrow
to be replaced by another.
Or forgotten.

Another tear.
Another glass gazing ball.
Another sorrow.
Another “I’m sorry”.
Another moment.
Another celebration.
Another memorial.
Another love.
Another life.
Another garden.
…If only my memory were not also impermanent.

The gazing ball, a gift of love, that was broken today.

The gazing ball, a gift of love, that was broken today.