At last enough beans all at once to make a meal. Until now, the birds and I nibbled the few a day while still outside.
The doves perched in that spot for at least an hour and a half–right above the murti of Ganesha.
The third front in a row. It is starting to be a long while not to rain in the summer. It is a tough gardening year: extreme drought conditions all winter, overly cool and wet spring, now no rain again.
Watching how the erratic weather patterns are impacting my garden, I am reminded that I am not a purist about gardening or food or my impact on the earth. As much as I enjoy tending my garden and eating its fruits, there is no hesitation in my mind that if my garden does not produce, I will buy more food at the farmers’ market. If the pickings are slim at the farmers’ market because of local conditions, I am in no doubt that I will buy food from whatever source, even if I try to make sure it is first local, then humanely picked, then organic.
When I write about gardening and eating and yoga, I am sharing what I enjoy, what makes me feel healthy. I do not think of myself as trying to set an example. In some senses, my yoga practice is similarly about what works for me personally and no more. The yoga teachings are fairly clear that the design and purpose of aligning with the subtle energies, including living in a more peaceful, less destructive way, is for the enlightenment of the individual practitioner and not for “making the world a better place.” If by seeking to live in a healthier, more aligned, more peaceful and compassionate way ourselves also brings more global benefits, that is a bonus.
Looking at our lives from this perspective could cause discouragement. I hear this question all the time: “why should I change what I am doing [consuming/eating/driving]? My behavior is not going to change the world when there are all of those billions not changing.” In some senses, looking at shifting our behavior from a completely selfish perspective makes it more accessible and meaningful. If we see our choices having the possibility of making ourselves healthier, happier, and more at peace with ourselves and the world around us, why would we not want to try to live more consciously?
The Isha Upanishad starts, “That is fullness (purna). This is fullness. Fullness comes from fullness. Take fullness from fullness, and the remainder is fullness.”
My maternal grandfather died when I was just a toddler, so I never got to know him. My mother used to tell us that when he had eaten enough at a bounteous meal, he would say “that was an excellent sufficiency and any more would be a superabundency.”
On Sunday I went over to Lovejoy Gardens to my little plot (approximately 3′ X 7′ raised bed on concrete, half shaded by a fence) and harvested tomatoes. There were about 15 ripe tomatoes. The first thought was that it was too many tomatoes. Then I thought of all the neighbors I had who didn’t have their own tomato plants. I knocked on one neighbor’s door. He gave me tea while I played with the cat. I gave him tomatoes. I went for a massage in the afternoon. I brought tomatoes. I was sent home with freshly made spanakopita. I invited another neighbor over for dinner. We at pesto with basil from the garden and cucumber and tomato salad (cucumber, tomato, and shallots all from the garden drizzled with a little of the best balsamic vinegar and seasoned with just ground sea salt and pepper). We had a lovely visit, and I sent him home with tomatoes. In the next day or two, I will make a batch of tomato sauce and put it in the freezer and have someone over for dinner another night.
There is only “too much of a good thing” or a “superabundency” if we hoard it or try to ingest it all ourselves out of fear, greed, or desire for power or control. When we have enough ourselves and then share the abundance, we simply create more abundance. Once again, I am given again from my garden another sweet insight into the yoga teachings. I am also reminded by this small example that I could share even more broadly from my blessed lot of fullness in global society.
