All That Remains

Sometimes I see an exquisitely landscaped garden, by most people's standards, but somehow when I look at it, it just leaves me cold. It has no personality, no depth. It might just as well have been a movie set for all of the authenticity and personality it reflects. Who are the people who own this garden? What does it tell me about them? Are they the old-fashioned, English country garden type? Do they love tropical plants and warm breezes? Are they committed to sustainable, organic gardens, or do they just hand over some money and tell the landscaper, "Make it gorgeous so the neighbors will rave?"

I think what a garden looks like says a lot about the people who planted it. When you take away all the frills and do-dads, all that really remains is the love that is put into it. With each rose, with each tomato, with each hummingbird feeder, the love of the earth, and of all of us who live on it, reflects out from the garden to all who see it.

Isn't that a great metaphor for life? When you strip away all of the fancy outer layers - the cars, the clothes, the makeup, the houses, etc - all that remains is the pure, authentic person underneath, and the core of each and every one of those authentic people is love. When we love ourselves full out, with no reservations or stipulations, the outer self blossoms. Our smiles are beautiful, our joy is palpable, and our thirst for life is contagious. When someone passes us on the street or sees us in a store, they are drawn to our energy like a bee to a flower. We don't need all of those outer trappings that our culture says we need to shine. Self love has more power than a roof full of solar panels! A beautiful rose starts from the same kind of  seed as every other rose. Whether it grows or doesn't grow only depends on the amount of love and attention it gets from Mother Nature and the one who planted it.

So I guess my question for you is this: what are you planting in your inner garden? Are you loving all that good, rich soil in which to plant your field of dreams? Are you reaching for the sun with your face turned up in expectation? Or is your garden a cold copy from a magazine just like a hundred others? The love you give your inner garden will yield bounty in your outer garden beyond your wildest expectations!

And so it is.

Be Careful What You Wish For

I am a great believer in the idea that our thoughts create our reality. I have seen evidence of that in my own life over and over in the past few years since I started to pay closer attention to what kinds of thoughts were running through my mind and what kind of experiences were the result of those thoughts. If I had nothing but negative, worried, critical thoughts, I experienced more to be negative about, worry about and be critical of, especially of myself. When I focused my attention on thoughts of joy, peace, happiness and especially gratitude, those were the kinds of experiences I would have. I’m not saying that if I focused on a new car that one would turn up in the driveway, but every time I decided that I was going to accept the idea that each and every moment of every day was filled with infinite possibilities, and I had a choice as to which one I could choose, my life changed in amazing ways. However, I have found that it pays to be specific when making choices or, as my mother used to say, be careful what you wish for.

 Case in point: critters. Ever since I moved back to the country I have been wishing and wishing to see critters. Back in my old apartment I was blessed to have a parade of birds and squirrels right outside my window as they gathered around the feeders I put out. However, ever since I moved here I have seen few critters except for crows, geese and starlings … and the cows across the street. Of course it was Fall by the time I moved in and most birds that were going on to warmer climates had already left, while other critters were burrowing in for what has turned out to be a very long, very cold and very snowy winter. Still, as the first hints of spring showed up last week and I was actually able to go outside in sneakers to see grass and yard starting to show up again, I repeated my wish to be reunited with the critters in the neighborhood.

 On Wednesday morning around 5 A.M. I was awakened from a deep sleep by an very powerful, and very unmistakable, odor … skunk! Since I have a ground floor apartment, I am very close to “the land” one might say. I jumped out of bed and tried to identify the direction it was coming from, afraid it might have gotten into the garage or the basement. I cracked open doors and windows and eventually my apartment aired out. My cats, on the other hand, were traumatized as only those of us who have cats can appreciate. They looked at me as if to say, “What did you do?” When I related the incident to my friends, they replied, “well, you asked for critters.”

If we wish for more money, but all we do is focus on how we don’t have enough money, all we’re going to experience is lack. If we wish for a man in our lives, but all we do is focus on all the failed relationships we had in the past, guess what kinds of guys are going to show up in our life? What if, instead of focusing on lack, we started focusing on what we do have and on our strengths? What if we asked ourselves, out of all the infinite possibilities in the universe, what one thing could we do that would put us on the path to prosperity? What if, instead of looking for Mr. Right, we ask ourselves how we have to change to become the kind of Ms. Right that a Mr. Right would be looking for?

 So what’s your wish? As for me, I’m still wishing for critters … oops, make that bunnies, and squirrels, and birds and a really good home for my stinky neighbors that is way downwind!

And so it is.

The Right Stuff

I saw a short video the other day that had the most profound effect on me. The video showed a bear in what appeared to be a zoo or an animal park. The bear was sitting on the concrete next to a pool not looking very happy. In fact, the bear's body language was exactly what you would expect from a living thing that has been confined for a long time. The bear sees something in the pool and slowly lumbers over to see what it is. Something is flailing frantically in the pool, trying desperately to get out. The bear, without hesitation, reaches in and pulls out a crow. How the crow came to be drowning in the pool we don't know. As the bear calmly walks away, the bird lays there for a moment and we assume that it is dead, but suddenly there is movement and the crow is up and on its feet, free to fly away to freedom as soon as its feathers dry!

So why am I sharing this with you? Because the actions of that bear moved me beyond words. Here was an animal whose freedom had been taken from it. It was doomed to a life behind bars and enclosures, never to be free to roam and live in harmony with other bears. He got nothing out of saving that bird, a bird, I might add, that is seen by many humans to be more of a pest or a Halloween decoration than anything else. Yet the bear acted without hesitation and rescued a bird that would be able to fly away to the freedom he was denied. It was, simply, the right thing to do.

All of us have an inner wise self that always knows what the right thing to do is. So often we ignore that inner voice. Why? Sometimes because we wonder, "What's in it for me?" Or, "What will people think?", or, "What if something happens to me,?" Sometimes the right thing to do is not the popular thing like supporting a cause that is meaningful for us. I can tell you from my own experience that once I announced that I had decided to go vegan and support the cause of animal rights, I had to take a lot of heckling and verbal abuse, but for me it was the right thing to do.

I don't know that I would be able to put myself in physical danger in order to save another, although I like to think I'd try, but I know that I would do whatever I could as I'm sure most people would. The thing is that often the right thing to do doesn't always have to do with saving someones life. Often it has to do with saving our own lives in a more personal or spiritual sense. The right thing to do is what brings the most good to all concerned with harm to no one, especially us. When we stop to listen to our inner wise self, we are never wrong. We all really do have the right stuff. 

And so it is.

A Piece of the Action

The other day I was reading an article on the subject of Earthing. Earthing is, essentially, walking barefoot on the ground. It is thought that when you do this, it  sends electrons through the body, which helps to optimize the immune system, release antioxidants and increase energy as well as reduce stress, among other things. From a spiritual perspective, Earthing helps you experience a more harmonious connection to the earth and to Spirit.

Why am I telling you this? So that I can set the stage for what came next. After reading the article, I decided to take my daily walk outside. As there have been many days recently when it has been dangerously cold or blowing like a blizzard which pretty much cancelled the idea of a walk, I tend to take every opportunity to get outside even if it means five minutes of layering clothes to do it. As I stepped out the door and stood in the sunshine for a moment, the article came back to tickle my brain. I thought about how sad it was that I would have to wait weeks and weeks to be able to take my shoes off and walk on the grass, absorbing the earth's love and energy - unless, of course, I had an intense desire to experience frostbite and possibly freezing my feet to the ground. I started to walk down the driveway towards a stand of spruce trees when I saw something dark on the snow. At first I thought maybe it was an oil stain or something from a vehicle that had parked there, but no vehicles had come up the driveway that day. As I got closer, I realized that it was a circle of about two feet in diameter of ... blacktop. It was the first time I had seen the actual driveway in over a month, and even though it was not really the ground as described in the article, I stepped into that circle, faced the sun and sucked it all in gratefully. It was't perfect, but it was my piece of the action and I was claiming it.

Sometimes we have to make the best we can out of a less than perfect situation. Instead of sitting in the house moaning and groaning about the weather (it is, after all, still winter, and yes, I realize I was the one doing the moaning last week), I kept to my practice of getting out there and connecting even if it was only with the snow and the sky. My reward for remembering that I am just one part of a huge, giving and connected world, was a piece of the ground that I could claim for my own. Even though it was not grass, or even dirt for that matter, I received just as many benefits as if it had been June. I felt that I was, at last, on solid ground, that it really was still there all evidence to the contrary, and as the sun warmed my face and the ground beneath me, I felt my connection to it all. If you stay with your head buried underground like an ostrich, you're going to miss all the good stuff.

So this morning I looked outside and, yes, it is snowing again, and, no, my piece of ground is no longer poking up through the snow, but I know it's out there. I know the exact spot where it is, and when it stops snowing, I'm going to go find it, shovel it out, and stand in it; because that's my piece of the action, and I'm keeping the connection open. Being connected to All That Is, it turns out, is good for my health!

And so it is.

Too Much Of A Good Thing

Let us go back for a moment to that golden day in October when the moving truck pulled away and I was left to soak up the beautiful, peaceful, nature-filled atmosphere of my new home. Even though the sun was shinning, I was aware of a faint chill in the air and remembered that cold weather came early up here. I pictured myself spending the winter curled up in the recliner with a hot cup of chai tea at my elbow, a warm blanky covering my legs, an even warmer cat on my lap, and a good book in my hands while I enjoyed the crackling sound of my virtual fireplace (God bless DVD's), and the aroma of soup bubbling on the stove. Outside, the landscape would be a picture from Currier and Ives, a snow covered beauty. Ah, hibernating at its best.

Fast forward to today. It is 7 degrees outside with a windchill of -13. This is warmer than last Monday when the windchill was -31.It has been at or below zero for the majority of February so far.  I have eye strain from all the reading I have been doing. My cats prefer to sleep on my bed instead of my lap because I have to get up every 20 minutes or so to make sure my legs are still working. I can't stand to look at that blasted virtual fireplace one more minute, and if I have to eat one more bowl of soup, I will vomit! What I need is a creative solution to having had too much of a good thing.

For those of you who know me well, you know that I have what my teachers used to refer to as an active imagination when I was a kid. At the age of 65 my children think it's more like delusions. Still, I can make myself believe almost anything if I work at it. So here is the agenda for today:

First: Put on every light in the apartment to simulate sunlight.

Second: Turn up the heat enough to grow tropical plants.

Third: Put on shorts and a tank top.

Fourth: Go shave my legs (well, they've been sleeping under sweat pants for

5 months and my cats really don't care one way or the other).

Fifth:  Pull out the fireplace DVD and replace it with the one that reads, "Relaxing Ocean Waves," complete with sea gulls.

Sixth:  Make a nice, fruity drink with rum and a little umbrella.....

Last:  Curl up with the drink, the ocean, the sea gulls, and a travel guide to Maui.

Somebody wake me when the snow melts and the ground dries up enough to garden. See you then ... now this is hibernating at its best!

And so it is.

Making Room for the Unknown

“I’m choosing happiness over suffering, I know I am. I’m making space for the unknown future to fill up my life with yet-to-come surprises.”

Elizabeth Gilbert

The above quote came to me one day as I was restlessly flipping through Facebook looking for something to inspire me to some sort of productivity. It jumped off the screen and caught me squarely between the eyes. So, of course, I had to find a gardening analogy to fit the quote.

As I have been sitting here beneath several feet of snow that seems to keep replenishing itself the minute so much as an inch melts, I have been warding off the winter blues by making plans for my brand spanking new garden. One of the things that I have to take into consideration when laying this plan out on paper is to remember to leave room for the unknown. What I mean by this is that since this is my first year gardening in this spot, I have no way of knowing how well some plants will do as opposed to others, which ones will pretty much fill the space where they’re planted and which ones will take over way more room than I had anticipated. Sometimes that is a good thing, and sometimes it overtakes other plants and chokes them out. Then there is the drainage and runoff of the piece of ground I’m working with which will affect whether the plants get enough water or hold too much water and create root rot.  As much time as we put into gardening, in the end it is really nothing more than a crap shoot, having faith that what is supposed to grow will grow, and what is not, won’t, and along the way knowing that surprises await us that we could never have imagined. Like the time I once pulled up some well-established grass in order to dig a new garden bed only to discover a beautiful vine that had been struggling to come up through the sod where it had been seeded over by a previous gardener.

No matter how well we think we have planned our lives, we always need to leave room for the unknown. How dull life would be if we didn’t allow room in our lives for surprises, those unexpected occurrences that tap us on the head and remind us that the magic is in the unknown, the unexpected. Instead of weighing ourselves down with schedules and to-do lists, or worrying about what “might” happen, why not leave a nice, big space for the unknown. It is never too late to incorporate a little adventure into our lives, a little spark of creativity and childlike belief. Even if the unexpected turns out to be something that threatens to overgrow your space and choke your roots, you can always pull it out and make space for something new. That’s how you choose happiness over suffering, by making space for the unexpected, yet-to-come surprises in our lives.

So what are you going to choose?

And so it is.

From My Heart To My Plate

For the last year or so I have been working on becoming a vegan. I use the phrase "working on becoming" because this isn't something one does on a whim. This is an extreme change in lifestyle and beliefs, and I knew that if I just dove into it, I would be overwhelmed and feeling like I was denying myself in the same way that starting a new wonder diet leaves us feeling deprived after a few days. Becoming a vegan is about more than just what is on your plate. It is also about what is in your heart.

I find it curious, now that I think about it, that my interest in going vegan began to surface about the same time  I discovered my love of gardening. If this isn't all a masterful example of synchronicity, I don't know what is. It is only in the last year, however, that I have taken the time to really do my homework. I have spent countless hours on YouTube watching haunting videos and reading the latest books and research on the subject. I've perused every online vegan recipe site I could find.

Yes, there is some measure of feeling like I have to give things up, especially things I am fond of. I do love a nice serving of grilled salmon, a yummy, cheesy egg dish, and my all time favorite - ice cream. So I am still looking for ways to satisfy the desire for those taste experiences, but like anything else, if we want to create new habits, it takes time. Rome wasn't the only thing not built in a day. A lifetime of beliefs and traditions wrapped around food aren't changed over night. We were all raised with: "Eat your meat, drink your milk." My religious upbringing, such as it was,  never asked me to think of animals as thinking, feeling, sentient beings. You just did what you were told because that was the way it was done.

For those that might be asking what changed my mind about eating animals and the products they produce, I won't go into lured details about the unthinkable cruelty that goes on at factory farms, or the health benefits of eating a plant based diet. If you want the gruesome details, go on over to Netflix or YouTube and take a look at some of the documentaries (Forks Over Knives, Food, Inc.) or read the New York Times article about what goes on at factory farms. All I will say is that it is my wish that no other living thing should have to suffer or die for my benefit when there is another way. I may not be able to change the world, but I can change my participation in it. Evolution didn't stop with Darwin. As my mentor, Louise Hay, is always saying, a belief is only a thought that you think over and over ... and thoughts can be changes.

And so it is.