The Fight For A Sustainable World

For the past week I have been enjoying a seminar sponsored by Food Matters TV. It is called "The Total Wellness Summit," and runs through March 31. Experts from all over the world, in all areas of health and wellness, plus personal stories of miraculous transformations, have not only kept me glued to the screen, but has opened up some new questions that I have decided need answering not only for my own health, but for the health of our planet.

I became a vegan about 6 years ago. It started out with my decision to cut out red meat and eat only chicken and fish as advised by the medical profession at the time. I followed that up with dairy products for two reasons. First, I found that I could tolerate plant-based dairy alternatives better than regular dairy products, and, second, I remembered what I discovered some years ago when I was doing a story for a regional newspaper about the debate regarding injecting cows with hormones to produce more milk. One of the arguments against it at that time was the claim by the dairy farmers that forcing the cows to produce more milk left them open to more infections from mastitis, which in turn required more doses of antibiotics, etc, etc. It was a vicious circle that all ended up in the milk that we drink. It is any wonder that there are more and more cases where antibiotics that used to work no longer do because we have become immune to them? Anyway, my journey to veganism was fully realized when I took a whole month to do my research (once a reporter, always a reporter), and looked into what was going into the food we eat, from plants to processed foods and everything in between. It came to a head when I started watching the documentaries about factory farms that produced the meat that we eat. To say that I was wounded to the core is an understatement. I decided then and there that no living thing should have to withstand torture and a most gruesome murder just so I can have a burger and a shake. 

Watching the summit this week has again gotten me thinking about what kind of a world we are going to leave for our children and grandchildren when what comes out of the ground is filled with poisons and chemicals, and that the ground itself is slowly but surely being depleted to the point where nothing healthy can grow. Add to that the pollution of air and water, and the continued extinction of so many species of animals that the kids of the future will never see, and it has renewed my commitment to doing what I can, where I can, with whatever tools and gifts I have, to see that we all don't end up becoming extinct as Deepak Chopra suggested at a recent conference where he stated quite bluntly that humankind is in danger of evolving themselves right out of existence just like the dinosaurs if we don't make a stand now.

Somehow I think seeing this summit as spring is beginning to wake up the earth is the perfect time for all of us to ask ourselves whether we are willing to just let things go as they have because we believe we are powerless against big business, or whether we truly believe we owe it to ourselves, the future generations, and Mother Earth herself, to do what we can, where we can, with whatever tools and gifts we have, to take a stand. If not now, then when? If not us, then who?

And so it is. 

Barking and Bird Song

Just as the cold and snow has finally started to crawl out of here and let a few days of springlike weather creep in, after almost 6 years without so much as a cold ... I have developed what is coming to be known in our area as "The Never-Ending Cough." It came on during this last week as the winds began to blow in some much warmer weather. There, finally, was the sunshine and blue skies we'd been waiting for ... and with it the constant, tickling, hacking cough. Some folks have been dealing with this mystery ailment all winter. Sitting in church you can hear the wave of coughing going up and down the aisles like a collection plate. Every time I go into one of my coughing fits, I swear I sound exactly like a barking seal. This is the sound that has been my constant companion all week long, 24/7. If I lived near the ocean, I swear I'd have seals swimming inland following their mating call!

The only bright sound that has reached my ears besides this call of the wild is the slow but steady return of my favorite sound of all: bird song. I would rather listen to birds singing outside of my window than Luke Bryan singing a love song. I could sit at my window and watch the birds in the branches singing to one another all day and never even miss TV or YouTube ever again. The only thing that could top Mother Nature's original songbook would be if angels joined in, and who says these little feathered darlings aren't angels in disguise?

So for anyone, anywhere, that is trying to pull through what feels like a never-ending winter and the never-ending cough, try opening up the window the next time you hear birds singing you awake in the morning and inhale a dose of Mother Nature's magic. You might even stop barking!

And so it is.

Deep Roots From The Past

Last week on my website "Writing A Life," I shared what happened when I took a quiz sent to me by the wonderful folks at Hay House Publishing to see if I had any connection to a past life in a mystical land. The results were that I may have had a past life on the beautiful hidden island of Avalon. I'll just share again with you what the quiz uncovered:

"Avalon is perhaps the most recent lost land, thought to have existed in the countries of the UK, Ireland and parts of Europe. It’s said that Avalon is the place where King Arthur was taken after he was deeply wounded in battle. Some believe it was a physical place, others believe it to be a mystical place of healing and others believe that it still exists in the “otherworld” today.

It is believed that Avalon was a Mother God civilization where all were in service to the great mother. If you’ve had a past life in Avalon, it’s likely that you’re very in tune with nature and, like the those from Avalon, enjoy worshipping the Earth and her seasons. You’re practical, empathic and intuitive, and you love being part of a community."

I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised by this outcome. It certainly fit me like a glove. I am also very in tune with nature, enjoy all of the gifts of Mother Earth and the beauty in each changing season. So far, so good. 

A few days later I received another email inviting me to participate in an audio meditation to take a trip via past life regression back to Avalon to gain some insight on who I may have been way back when. So I turned off my phone, settled in, and set sail across the magical waters with the Lady of the Lake to the mystical island of Avalon. Some of what I discovered didn't surprise me in the least. 

It turns out that I was a gardener on Avalon! Not just any gardener, mind you, but a mistress of herbs in the Goddess's own magical garden. I had a sweet little hut right there surrounded by all of the plants and flowers. The woman I saw was middle aged and although she had no children of her own, she loved and shared her wisdom of herbs and gardening with all the children on the island. Her job was to grow and distribute all of the herbs that were used by the priestesses and herbalists to heal the sick, ward off evil, and flavor the foods. She had a loving relationship with all of the animals who lived within the garden walls and spent her days joyfully working with her hands in the dirt and her heart in the earth. 

My readers here at Flower Bear's Garden will understand why I decided to complete the story of my connection to Avalon on this blog instead of my website. How appropriate that on a site that speaks every week to our connection to nature and what it can teach us, that my little trip into the past should reveal that gardening has been in my blood in previous lifetimes. Even if you don't believe in any of this, if it proves anything at all, it is that our deepest, truest self, our soul, knows what we love and what we need. I need to be connected to Mother Earth and all she can teach me ... with a little help from my animal relations. The fact that the story ended with my trip to a magic well to ask for my deepest desire which turned out to be: "I want to feel whole again" speaks to any of us who feel separated from what we love and need. 

Maybe it's time we all took a mystical trip into the deepest parts of our souls to find out who we are when we are totally connected to all that we love and need. Some of it may surprise you, some may not, but even if you don't believe in such things, time spent nurturing our souls is never wasted time. Who knows where you may end up?

And so it is.

P.S. If you want to check out the first installment of this journey, log on to my website: www.barbparcellswritingalife.wordpress.com to see where it all started.

Color My World

I woke up this morning and looked out of the window to be greeted by yet another blanket of white against a backdrop of alternating shades of grey ... with a few brown branches sticking out for texture. Another few inches of snow had fallen overnight and now the familiar sounds of plows, shovels and snow blowers are playing their daily tune. I swear I have a slight case of snow blindness even indoors. Even though I try to make sure there is color inside my home, the light from outside bleaches everything inside. I need to do something colorful to change the light in my own eyes and in my soul. So I'm digging out my coloring books and colored pencils.

The kids have been gifting me with these wonderful adult coloring books for a while now. At first I used them all of the time, but when the weather started to warm up and the world splashed its own box of colors around, I spent more time walking outside to invite color into my life - there's nothing like the original. Now that the world seems to be devoid of color, I am taking them out again. Since most of them have to do with nature, they are just perfect for this outdoor lover and retired gardener. Some of them even come with inspirational sayings or famous quotes designed to touch you as much as the act of coloring itself, for in picking the actual colors and moving your hand across the page, you find yourself in a sort of meditative place where you can touch the soul of your creativity. For everyone who has ever said: "Oh, I can't paint/draw, etc. I'm not talented that way," this is the way for you to put your own colorful stamp on the world. And on a day like today, with nothing but grey and white light all around you, sitting down with a coloring book and letting your inner child out to play is like a painter sitting in front of a blank canvas with a palette full of paint ... the sky is the limit!

So you'll have to excuse me now as I sharpen my pencils and find the coloring book that is calling to this inner 5 year old today. Hmmm? Yes! I think the book with all of the butterflies is what I need. Today I feel a calling to start fighting my way out of my cocoon. 

And so it is. 

When The Wind Blows

I'm writing and posting this blog a day earlier than I usually do. Our area is under a High Wind Warning from late this afternoon until mid-day tomorrow. We have all been advised that there could be downed trees and power outages and that we should be prepared.

Of course, having been a Girl Scout in my youth, one who fervently embraced the motto: Be Prepared, I wasted no time in getting my tiny home in order:

• Flashlights and backup batteries - check.
• Candles (both small ones and big ones, mobile and stationary) -  check.
• Little candle powered fondue to make hot water for coffee, tea, or soup - check.
• Lighter - check.
• Containers filled with water to handle drinking/cooking, washing, and flushing - check.
• Purse packed with important items like ID, bank cards, medication, etc., in the event that giant pine tree I am always writing about (the one that sways back and forth in a storm like a palm tree doing yoga) decides to come down and take out the roof - check. 
• Alternate sleeping arrangement in the event that said tree mentioned above, which is outside the window next to my bed, is trying to do a complete back-bend and I'm too scared to sleep in my bed (which in a studio apartment means the spot on the love seat furthest from the big window or my desk chair propped up with pillows and a foot rest next to the front door) - check. 

My Girl Scout Leader would be so proud.

We have no control over the weather, and there are many other storms in life that we have no control over either, especially if they involve the behavior or actions of other people. All that we do have control over is how we respond to those storms. The best way that I know how to do that is to follow the Girl Scout rule and always Be Prepared. A regular spiritual practice like prayer, meditation, journaling, yoga, or anything else that gives us the tools we need to respond with love, acceptance, and courage can keep a storm that is just blowing through from becoming the storm of the century in our lives. And as our Native Americans teachers taught us: "No storm lasts forever." 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get this posted in case we lose power. Then I need to pull out some heavy blankets and my Christmas flannel pj's in case we lose heat, and maybe make some sandwiches ahead of time, and, and, and, ... ok, maybe a person can be too prepared, but once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout.

And so it is. 

Seeds Of Change

“Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has

been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed

there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.”

― Henry David Thoreau

Even though I thought I had deleted my name from all those gardening magazine and catalog mailing lists (now that I no longer garden outside as I used to it seemed a waste of money and paper), a few still seem to be floating around out there. One of them sent me a gift as a way of enticing me back into the fold. It was a small packet of seeds for a new, fancy type of parsley I'd never heard of before. It was a nice surprise, but I doubt that I will be using them. When it comes to parsley, the traditional Italian parsley is the one I use. It's what my mother used, and it's what I use. For some of us older folks, change doesn't happen easily.

What is it about older folks and change anyway? Some people would rather hold on to old ways and ideas with a death grip rather than try something new, or do something in a different way. Is it that they think it means they were wrong all this time? Does it demean them or invalidate them in some way? I think the idea of change scares most people, the old, universal "fear of the unknown." Personally, I usually don't mind trying something different, or looking at things from a different perspective. I certainly don't want to wind up 80 or 90 years old having lived the same year over and over 80 or 90 times! I want to be exposed to new ideas, new ways of seeing the world. That's what keeps life fresh and exciting. Besides, as the philosophers and spiritual teachers tell us, nothing in this world really stays the same. Everything changes, every minute of every day.

So I'm going to take my cue from my dearest and oldest mentor, Henry David Thoreau, and plant a new seed where nothing was planted before and expect wonders. Maybe, after all, trying a new type of parsley will open up new ways of cooking new kinds of foods, and wouldn't that be a delightful culinary adventure?

And so it is. 

If Wishes Were Seeds

February for gardeners is like December for kids. Just like all those Christmas catalogs come in the mail to tease and taunt the little ones, February brings hopeful gardeners all those beautiful, inviting seed catalogs to their door. One by one, page by page, we are pulled to the images of lush, beautiful flower borders, vibrant veggies bursting with flavor, delightful garden ornaments and brightly-colored seed packets, each one promising the best yield God ever created! 

Now that I no longer garden on any kind of grand scale, restricted as I am by location and brittle joints to container and tabletop gardening, I still haunt the magazines, catalogs and especially websites (which saves paper, which makes me and the trees happy) looking for new ideas about things like vertical gardening, grow lights, indoor plant foods and temperatures ... the list goes one and one. Once a gardener, always a gardener.

Wouldn't it be nice to have, instead of a seed catalog to grow plants, a seed catalog that grew wishes? Can you imagine the joy of opening the mailbox and seeing a Wish Book, knowing that you could order anything you wanted out of it? Can you picture each page, full of color and excitement, luring you to chose one wish over another, promising you so much happiness that it would, indeed be, "the best yield ever?" Some folks might jump at the chance to own such a catalog, but age and experience tells me that over time it would take over your life, just like those gardeners who always have to have more, different, better, bigger, etc. At what point would we be satisfied with all that we had?

The best wishes are the ones that bring us joy regardless of the size or quantity. These are the ones that we have the power to make come true ourselves, and aren't they the ones that are the most cherished? I don't need a huge, wall-sized vertical garden. What I want are a few pots of my favorite herbs, to help my little bamboo plant to flourish, and maybe a little color in the form of variegated leaves or tiny flowers to brighten up my space. All of those things are the kinds of wishes that I can make come true all on my own, and those are the ones that will bring me the most joy.

 So, what are you going to order out of your wish catalog today?

And so it is.