Distraction

I’m pretty sure I would be distracted.


Across from the White House, April 4, 2019
This morning I misted the orchids. None are blooming right now, but an orange catteleya I received as a gift several years ago is budding, as is my favorite epidendrum, which offers up a host of delicate, greenish, spidery blooms every February. It brightens my day to spend a little time tending the house plants when it is most wintry outside.
I rinsed sprouts. I have both bean sprouts and a salad mixture going. I started new batches of sprouts as soon as I returned from NYC. I was grateful for the offerings at the grocery store, but pine for at least a little something truly fresh. I’d had a little chard, parsley, and chives that made it through the snow storm. Much to my surprise, I even managed to salvage enough from the garden to include in an omelet after the ice storm the other morning, but the day-time subfreezing temperatures and icy winds have finished off the outdoor garden until March. I think I am going to get some burlap and start some micro-greens in addition to salad and bean sprouts.
In the tantric yoga philosophy, two key concepts are that of prakasha and vimarsha–light and reflection. Prakasha is the fullness of the light of consciousness itself; vimarsha, the reflection of the light that is our own individual recognition of the light of consciousness in ourselves. The sweetly mysterious joy we get in seeing reflections in a puddle is the reminder we are given of the pulsing dance between the light and the reflection of the light, neither of which we can know without the other.