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Waking Up in the Dark (a Hint of Autumn)

This week I have really noticed the light changing.  When I start my morning meditation, the day is just dawning, not full daylight.  The cat is not waking me up an hour before the electronic wake-up call, but is rather showing up just before it goes off (he is acting in sync with my routine rather than with the birds’).   Even though the days are still hot, there are hints of autumn in the smell of the leaves and certain breezes.  The first of the late summer fruits and vegetables are starting to come.

Are you noticing the subtle shifts?  Has it changed what you want to practice and how you are feeling when you practice?

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    Borage and Bee Balm and Licorice Mint

    Enjoying some edible flowers (pansies, marigolds, nasturtiums, chive and basil flowers) and found myself wishing I had borage and bee balm in my garden.  I’ve tried in the past, but they tend to take up more space than I have for what they offer.  Perhaps I will try again anyway.

    Found a seedling of Korean licorice mint at the Fresh Farm market at Penn Quarter yesterday.  If it takes, it should be a nice addition to the mint, lemon balm, and verbena I use to make infusions (hot and iced).

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    An Excellent Sufficiency, Homegrown Tomatoes (and the Isha Upanishad)

    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.

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    “What Is It?”

    As I squatted on the brick sidewalk to take this photo during my lunch time walk, a nice-looking older man stopped and asked “what is it?” He was quite tall and standing at an angle that would not have showed the shape as well as from where I was positioned.

    “Stand on this side; what do you see?” I asked. He looked from my perspective. “A leaf,” he said with a quizzical expression, wondering why a dessicated bit of English ivy would have captured my attention sufficiently for me to take a photograph.

    “Look again,” I suggested. “Can you see anything else?”

    “Ah,” he said with delighted recognition: “it’s a heart.”

    “Yes. I see them and other interesting shapes in all sorts of things–litter, blackened chewing gum, the pavement itself.”

    “Everything has more than one form,” he rejoined. “You are blessed.”

    And thus we went our separate ways, having brightened our day with this small connection. If he lives in the neighborhood, no doubt we will recognize each other enough from this encounter, at least to smile and say hello.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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    Standing Vigil

    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.

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