Found Exhortation (and Some More Roses)




This morning while I was out in the garden, I heard a chirping right above my head. Within arm’s reach was a bright red male cardinal perched among the grapes effusively talking. (I planted a tiny red, concord grape vine about six years ago, and it has flourished beyond my wildest dreams).
There were enough ripe grapes for me to pick a handful for myself. I have bird netting, but I have not put it over the grapes. They did not do so well this year, many turning brown prematurely because, I think, of the drought-ridden winter followed by the extra wet and cool spring. I am grateful that I will not be dependent on these grapes as food for myself to survive through next winter (I’m pretty sure; if not, I have bigger things to worry about).
For the joy of having the birds come visit so fearlessly and delightedly, and because the grapes are not fantastic to eat, I leave all, but those I get by the small handful a couple of mornings a week for a few weeks, to the birds. Maybe next year I will net the grapes, but then I’ll have to have a canning party to make jam. In the meantime, I’ll marvel that every bird in DC seems to know when my grapes ripen.
We make decisions like this all the time. With how we shop, what we eat, what work we choose, how we travel, we are making decisions about habitat and environment for ourselves and hosts of other beings.
In yoga, the process of ever refining our understanding so that we can be more in touch with how we act impacts our life force and our relationship with all around us, is viveka, or discrimination. Just as the more we practice on the mat, the more we develop awareness of what leads us to feel more in tune and more celebratory of life, so too, we want to use that yoga refinement and discrimination to inform our acts off the mat.
My walk in the neighborhood led me to Eastern Market this morning although I was not looking for anything in particular. A small group of people were standing at the four corners of 7th and C Streets Southeast, standing vigil for the children in Gaza and asking for ceasefire.
I asked if I might join them and they offered me a sign. The demonstrator next to whom I was standing was most curious about what led me to be supportive of Palestine and we mostly talked about Quakers and Quaker emphasis on peaceful and fair solutions.
How could I not, in this small way, not add my voice and add my physical presence when I imagine how much more brave to be speaking out and how much more painful for those with friends and family and familiar places under siege.
