Watching the Storm
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Found Exhortation (with which I profoundly disagree)
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
A co-worker of mine said today that he hated that everything we do gets criticized by someone. During part of the conversation, he also mentioned that once something written was made public and then questioned, an alternative meaning to the one meant (the alternative then necessitating clarification) often happens.
Writing, art, and other expressions do seem to have a life of their own. We need to do our best to be clear and then just go with the flow as what we say gets interpreted and passed on. An example, for me, was that until the change in administration, no one thought to ask me whether the name “rose garden” yoga had anything to do with Washington, DC. After the shift in January, a few people noticed how DC it could be and asked if my intent was to refer to the White House Rose Garden.
It was not my original intent to have that be one of the many things that came to mind when I chose the name, but I it works well enough if people think of the Rose Garden as one of the many possible referrents.
One of my favorite fairy tales is the one about the traveler who teaches the old woman how to make “nail soup.” It is a cold, wintry night in the forest, and a traveler comes upon a hut. He knocks on the door and asks for shelter. The old woman who lives in the hut says he can sleep in the shed, but she cannot give him any food. The traveler thanks her for providing shelter. He says he does not need food, but if she lets him in by the fire, he will show her how to make soup from a nail. The woman, who is rather miserly, is excited by the idea of being able to make soup from a nail, so she lets him in and puts a big soup pot filled with snow to melt over the fire. The traveler puts the nail in the soup and says, “what a wonderful broth we will have from this nail. If we only had a potato or two, it would be even better.” The woman roots around in her hoard and puts a potato in the pot. “Now it will be even more wonderful,” said the traveler. “If we only had an onion to add, it would be the most savory soup you have ever tasted.” The woman goes to her winter stores and finds an onion. The traveler sniffs the soup, “mmm, how wonderful it smells, if we had a carrot or a parsnip, it would be gracious enough for any guest.” The woman, trembling with the excitement of creating soup from a nail, adds both a carrot and a parsnip. At this point, the broth is starting to take on thickness and color, and the hut is redolent of bubbling hot vegetable soup. “Oh for some salt and a little meat,” cried the man, “and this soup would truly be fit for a king.” “From only a nail, soup fit for a king!” exclaimed the old woman, “that I must have.” She added a precious pinch of salt and some meat dried to last through the winter. The soup, of course, was delicious, the traveler well-fed, and the woman happy to share (even if she was tricked).
Sometimes we need a reminder of our abundance, both inner and outer, to be invited to bring out all we have so that we can better serve. Just as the traveler with the nail reminded the isolated old woman of how to share her abundance, sometimes we need to remind ourselves of what we have rather than what we are missing. I find that when I am feeling more empty than full, coming to my mat and my meditation cushion and practicing gratitude quickly helps me remember.
