Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I have been indulging in reading the thriller Angelology (complete with stories of angels and the war between good and evil), which I picked up at the Books for America shop in Dupont Circle a couple of weeks ago for the kind of night of reading that is the equivalent of a night of watching television if I had a television. Relatively early in the book, a professor says to one of the brilliant students who is a central character to the plot: “I have found that our texts will speak deeply to someone or they will say nothing whatsoever. It depends upon your sensitivity toward the subject. The mind and spirit become ripe in their own fashion and at their own pace. Beautiful music plays, but not everyone with ears can hear it.”
This statement encapsulated the ongoing thinking I do about my attraction to yoga and the tantric philosophy. I was contemplating especially deeply this week on my return from California, with no particular insight arising, what has drawn me in to this world of meditation and yoga. What am I doing, having been born in New York City and working as a civil servant in DC, coming from atheist Jewish grandparents and converted to Quakerism parents, finding such joy in learning Sankrit chants and working with energetic principles described in these ancient and medieval Indian texts? I do not doubt that the practices resonate and the texts speak to me and that the attraction is energetic, just as we are drawn to certain tastes and colors and entertainment and people and no interest arises from others. I just wonder why these practices and texts and not something else and why they hold me to such a degree that I am moved to teach them.
There’s lots of arugula in the garden. Some still new enough to save for salad, some that has bolted in the heat. The cilantro is just about gone with the dry heat. The basil and parsley have gone to flower. As I thought about how best to enjoy all of what was there while simultaneously best tending the garden for optimal growth (much like yoga practice), I remembered that I had seen a farmer with arugula pesto at the Dupont Circle Fresh Farm Market last week. I bought something else from the farmer to honor the idea, fully conscious of my own garden full of arugula calling out to me.
Making pesto was a great way to optimize the bitter tang of the flowers on the older plants. (I left a few of each type of plant to go to seed for a second crop starting in late summer on a volunteer basis). I added enough of the young arugula and some tender parsley and basil leaves, along with the basil flowers, to bring out the arugula taste that would have been hidden by the bitterness in the plants that had flowered if not been combined with other foods. I pureed the chopped greens with olive oil, walnuts, and green garlic. Salt and pepper to taste.
Uh oh. Must be time for a puja to Kali in her aspect as the goddess of sequencing.
Here is what is coming up from last year–perennials, volunteers, or things I planted in the fall (in order photographs appear and from front to back and left to right within photos): ruby chard, hyacinth, oregano, strawberry, cilantro, garlic, beets, brussels sprouts, kale, mizuna, parsley, arugula, lemon thyme, italian flat leaf parsley, echinacea, garlic, roses, spring onions, chives, mache. I will be planting seeds in the morning.
