Yesterday afternoon when I came home from teaching I wanted to be out for a walk in the neighborhood more than I wanted to be alone in the garden, but I also wanted to be serving the garden. I combined the two by walking the ten blocks to Gingko Gardens — our wonderful Capitol Hill nursery. It is a little more expensive than some of the nurseries out in the burbs, but I know the owner and have friends in common, I always bump into neighbors when I am shopping there, and they are experts in what grows and works in our little urban gardens. I was thrilled when they opened a number of years ago and want them to continue to thrive, so I make a point of shopping there. I bought some seeds and some planting medium for starting seeds indoors and ordered a few containers and organic potting soil for delivery.
In addition, after having done a bunch of research on rain barrels over the week, I also asked whether Gingko would deliver and install rain barrels from Aqua Barrel, which is located in Gaithersburg. Answer, “yes.” (For those of you in the suburbs, Amicus Green also carries and installs them). It took me a long time to assess what style barrel would work for me and where it should be placed. I was hoping to support a local manufacturer to cut down on wasteful transportation. I also know that given my circumstances it is critical that it be installed correctly with a good diverter system. It is good for me to do the research but then bring in a professional to make sure it is right. I made an appointment and am looking forward to being able to align a little better with nature (by using rain water run-off instead of scarce, potable water for the garden) and to support the neighborhood (by buying locally and hiring resident professionals). And I bumped into a fellow yogi and gardener while I was shopping; inspired by the chat, she, too, made an appointment to discuss rain barrel installation.
To me, this is one way of bringing yoga off the mat. One of the key principles in Patanjali’s yoga sutras is the practice of brahmacharya, which literally means aligning with Brahma. The classical translation is celibacy. Many modern translators substitute “moderation.” This way of living, is of course, moderate. It is living a western lifestyle on the grid, but choosing to consume in a way that supports friends, neighbors, and manufacturers who use recycled materials to create products that will help us all to be a little kinder to the environment, while nurturing my home and self.
For the past few years, my friend X has hosted a Day of the Dead celebration. This year, it had not been in his plans. Enough of asked, though, that he is hosting a small dinner. The Halloween of candy and costumes has not had a big draw for me; it was never made much of in my childhood. Taking the time, though, to sense the thinning between the worlds and to take time to honor my ancestors is of great meaning. Having been privileged to be invited into the festivities of the Day of the Dead has enhanced my consciousness of this time of year.
Today, when I practiced, I first reflected on those friends and family who have left their physical bodies in the past year–some quite significant to me. Thinking of those friends and family led me to think of others long gone in body, but not in spirit, and others who are still living, but with whom the connection remains only in memory. To all, I offered honor and recognition of their part in my being. Of all, like the taste of the sugared skulls that are part of the Day of the Dead, I am consciously thinking some, among whatever memories may arise unbidden, of what was sweet.
I’ve heard people say the brighter the light, the darker the shadow, but never the darker the shadow, the brighter the light. Curious. May more light shine in what is too much darkness.
