Asana, Pranayama, and Yoga Practice | Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc) | Meditation | Photos
Be Here Now (Var.)
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“Just a little green…”
A neighbor who lives in the top floor of the building across the street, and thus has a spectacular view of the maples in front of my house writes:
“The buds on your tree are more numerous than yesterday, and more visibly that color that Joni Mitchell sang about: “just a little green, like the color when the spring is born...” And we’re getting a good, soaking rain. Happy Spring!”
I have heard the song so many times, I do not need to look it up, except to share both with those for whom it is not part of an intimate map of a long ago period and with those for whom it is and who will have, by just seeing the words (and even more so by listening), some upsurge of memories and a revelation of the miraculous play of consciousness.
Vipariti Karani
I just finished day two of three of training in “Coaching and Mentoring for Excellence.” It’s at the OPM building, which is just a couple of blocks west of the White House. Given rush hour commuting traffic and where the building and my house are situated relative to mass transportation, it doesn’t take much more time to walk-especially if I jog intermittently-the just over three miles each way. (See posts on Facebook and Instagram to see photos). I also took a walk at lunch.
Sometimes–for those of us fortunate enough to have a safe comfortable space and be healthy and well-nourished–nothing suits like several intentional minutes in vipariti karani (legs up the wall pose). Time to relieve my feet and legs after all that walking on pavement, even with the right shoes; time to be still and quiet, after a day of interpersonal exercises with strangers.
- Asana, Pranayama, and Yoga Practice | Food for the Body | Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc) | Gardening | Meditation
State of the Garden (and Samtulana)
The grapes are not nearly as bountiful as last year. The first 90F week was too early and sudden, which blasted dozens of newly formed grapes. And then it was too wet and cool. The few figs dried before ripening. But it was a great spring for kale and chard, and the cherry tomatoes are pretty happy. That the weather makes some things happier and some less happy is a tangible reminder why mono-cultures are so risky a venture. One of the greatest gifts I get from the “failures” in my edible garden is gratitude. I am reminded of how fortunate I am that the only repercussions of something not growing or producing well is that I have to buy more produce at the farm market or the grocery store.
The rains and now the heat are wondrous lovely for the mosquitoes. Here’s me dressing for a morning’s work in the garden. You might laugh, but I only got two bites in over three hours in the garden, which included watering. It likely would have been at least a dozen in loose trousers or shorts and a t-shirt. This is also the outfit of choice when hiking in the woods filled with deer and mice and lyme-disease bearing ticks.
I picked the marigolds yesterday to put on the altar. The puja card of the day was “balance” or “samtulana.” It was a perfect concept to meditate on for the day because little brings me back into balance better than spending a few hours gardening, and I’ve been feeling off-kilter.
Uma, of course, was there to lend moral support.
The “before” picture gives some idea of how simultaneously overgrown from the rains and heat-blasted from the past week everything was.
The “after” picture doesn’t reflect as much as I would like how much of a difference three and a half hours of weeding, deadheading, clipping, rearranging, harvesting, feeding, and watering made. When I got hungry, I just picked sun-warmed, just ripened grapes and then got back to work. Lunch, of course, emphasized contributions from the garden.
