Part of my daily practice is to take a walk. Despite the unseasonable cold and the overly scheduled, high stress day I was having, I made sure I still went for a walk. Once outside, I experienced beauty to lighten my heart and to bring freshness to the rest of the day’s work. That’s the purpose sadhana.
It’s an idiosyncratic grouping, but it is my weaving of stories for the moment.
I believe the brass dish under the cactus on the left was a wedding present, though I am not absolutely certain of that. It was a long time ago.
The cloth with the tassels came from a shaman in Peru; I was there for 9/11.
I bought the gray scarf when I was in Costa Rica on a retreat with John Friend from a world-traveling fellow yoga practitioner who had brought an array of beautiful scarves to Costa Rica from Thailand.
Other things were brought home from India–mostly by me, but one a treasured gift from a friend.
The porcupine quills were also an inspired and loving gift.
The square of marble under the cactus on the right I found on the street in the neighborhood. The cactii came from a yard sale over a decade ago. They were being sold for only blooming once a year.
The bit of mother of pearl comes from Centerport beach on Long Island. I went there last fall the day before my father’s memorial service.
Other things came from vendors at Eastern Market and one from New York City.
The chestnut is from Stanton Park. I picked it up on my way to work one beautiful day last year.
The heart-shaped stone came from Arizona when I was on a meditation retreat some time late in the last decade. I’ve been to some really lovely places on this planet.
The mala Kuan Yin is wearing I strung and designed: rudraksha beads from my first meditation mala (which had broken), labradorite, and emeralds on silk thread.
The jet beads belonged to my grandmother Rose.
There’s a story about the lump of black and red rock behind Ganesha, but I think I’ll leave that for another day.
Lucky to have a place to stand and see the sky while still being at home. With icy sidewalks and the pandemic raging, it seems a beautiful time to go inward.
Enjoying some edible flowers (pansies, marigolds, nasturtiums, chive and basil flowers) and found myself wishing I had borage and bee balm in my garden. I’ve tried in the past, but they tend to take up more space than I have for what they offer. Perhaps I will try again anyway.
Found a seedling of Korean licorice mint at the Fresh Farm market at Penn Quarter yesterday. If it takes, it should be a nice addition to the mint, lemon balm, and verbena I use to make infusions (hot and iced).
Earlier in the week, on my way home from a conference on the other side of town, I found on the $1 cart outside of Second Story Books, Starhawk’s Dreaming the Dark — Magic, Sex and Politics. Though I always learn something from reading Starhawk’s books and I had not read this one yet, the book was so heavily underlined, I thought twice about getting it.
Something made me hesitate before putting it back, and I opened it at random. On the page was the following: “Directed energy causes change. To have integrity, we must recognize that our choices bring about consequences, and that we cannot escape responsibility for the consequences, not because they are imposed by some external authority, but because they are inherent in the choices themselves.”
I wondered why this had not been underlined in full when so much of the rest of the page had been underlined because I thought on reading it: “Exactly right; that speaks to our current condition.”
And being in the midst this dialogue in which there has been so much discussion of integrity (along with what we might have caused and how we might have been affected by certain actions), I dismissed the possibility that the underlining would be too intrusive for my own reading because, yes, this teaching comes at just the right time in just the right context for deep contemplation of the deep truth that to act with integrity, we must appreciate our own contribution to causes and results/responses in the undulating fabric of our connected being.
