Jai Siva Nataraja on a Snowy Afternoon


This morning, after I stretched and then sat for meditation, I went out in the garden. I watered and weeded. I picked greens and herbs and cherry tomatoes to bring to work as part of my lunch.
I usually work from home on Friday, but had to go in for an intense series of meetings.
I picked these glorious turnips for our office administrative assistant. She is now the only support person in our office, and she is thus unsupported herself. She enjoys when I share edibles from the garden.
“Because the one I love lives inside of you, I lean as close to you as I can…” Shantala (aka Heather and Benjy Wertheimer who bring joy, beauty, and wisdom wherever they go).
It was gray when I woke and mostly gray—though not raining most of the day. For a few fine minutes the sky called me to watch.

After a day of teaching and more discussion and emails regarding the upheaval, I had a memory of petting one of the temple cows at Chidambaram. I was jetlagged and in sensory overload, and then I petted a most wonderful cow. I dropped into a space where I was perfectly at peace and unaware of the time and all the things going on around me. This space is always there for us, even in the absence of a sacred cow, and we practice so that we can find it more and more consistently, especially when we are being challenged.
I did not photograph the Chidambaram temple cow, although a nice Indian lady asked me if her husband could photograph the two of us with the cow, so she has a photograph of herself with the strange American lady in a sari who was petting the cow. I stopped to pet many cows after that. In one town, a man told me, as I was scritching a cow between ears and horns, that the cow would enjoy a banana.