It’s always a good time to appreciate plant world magic. It’s a reason to be cheerful or grateful that is always there, always happening. We just don’t always notice.
A couple of magical little things at work in my garden right now: Calendula pictured above, still blooming beautifully (at least until a hard frost!)
white sage in afternoon sun
White sage – not a native of this area. And in danger. But this lovely plant pictured above grew in a pot for me this year from seed. White sage is the plant people buy to smudge a new apartment. As a traditional energetic cleanser it’s been over-harvested. I’m grateful it chose to grow in my garden!
leeks, dirt still in the roots, from the vegetable garden
Leeks. We don’t think about mid November as a time for harvest but my carrots, leeks, and swiss chard are still going strong. Not interested in tempting the fates, I harvested them today. Pictured above.
Swiss chard, a spring green, loves the fall, too. Yum.
Green spirits to feed, protect, and nourish us- still afoot in the garden. At least for now. And when the snow fairies arrive to bring the fallow season, some lovelies will sleep until spring – even more magic.
Oregano, still tender and green after a summer haircut, winters over beautifully to emerge again in the spring…
With so much bad news all around us, especially in Gaza, before that Ukraine, and in the middle east for so long, it’s been challenging to focus on simple things, like a garden. To the point of it feeling irrelevant and even silly to focus on such an ordinary small thing. I’ve felt guilt at not making this horrible news more central in my life. And yet, I’m not there, there is little any of us can do beyond pray, sympathize, donate, commiserate. And this beautiful planet, devastated by the blasts just as her children (us humans, animals, plants- everything) are – suffers, too. So I do the things I can do, honor the life that arises here, and try not to let anxiety prevail.
So a story about time passing here.
My 19 year old daughter Inga got a summer job at a local med spa working the front desk. She started applying for summer jobs in April, interviewed remotely, and was offered this job before her final exams started. She was thrilled. She’d worked with the software they use and had done exactly this job last summer. She was especially happy because she wants to work as an injector when she finishes school, all goodness spring from beauty as it does 😉 and so a med spa would be good experience for her.
The night before her first day of work, which was scheduled for last week, she received an email from the med spa owner saying she’d given the position to someone else who can work year-round and that Inga didn’t “need to visit.” Inga hadn’t been aware they were (still) looking for someone for the job, or that they wanted a year round person. She was crushed.
I told her (in a more confident tone than I felt) that it was early enough in the season that she would find something else, and that she was better off. Who would want to work for someone that would behave that way, anyway? She saw the reason in my words and went back to job hunting. This went on for weeks and she had very few call backs and started to feel “helpless.” Most kids had secured summer jobs in April.
Then there was an offer to interview as … a jet ski guide. I laughed. Perfect for Inga who is spirited, athletic, and adventurous, and who has vowed in past summers to someday own a jetski because she thinks they are great fun. Yesterday she was offered the job with tips into the hundreds of dollars on the busiest (long) days… a small example of how sometimes things don’t go the way we hope, want, and expect them to, but somehow they work out.
Inga last summer
And, returning to the garden.
I’ve been wandering out to my herb garden every day to see if I could spot a sign of my echinacea angustifolia. Echinacea A. is the variety of echinacea most prized for it’s infection fighting power. I’ve read it’s a little harder to cultivate than purpurea, which, admittedly, is usually pretty easy going. But there hasn’t been a sign of it germinating and I was beginning to think it won’t happen this year…
Until today!
tiny echinacea angustifolia seedling leaves poke up through the dirt
I hope and pray every day for things to come right, for healing, for the right outcomes, for people and planet to find balance, acceptance, equanimity, and well-being. May we all have a hand in creating peace and presence where and when we can, remembering to be. Not to be this or that. But just to be.
Today I received an invitation to attend an event at Harvard Divinity School – The Path to Happiness: Ancient Wisdom for Modern Times with Swami Sadyojathah. It got me to thinking about meaning, success, and happiness.
During my time at Harvard I learned some meditation skills and a whole lot about the practices and beliefs that animate different spiritual and religious traditions. After graduating I applied some of them, especially in my work with teams all around the world. What I learned in my MA of Religion – which for me was a survey of the world’s religions culminating in a thesis that compared 2nd century Buddhist and Christian mystical texts – changed me, and was a key to my success in corporate settings.
I worked days in offices in Cambridge Massachusetts as a quality assurance engineer and spent nights and weekends in the graduate program for Religion during those years. My manager at the time, a PhD of Physics, thought that Religion was a laughable choice. Why not pursue studies that would further my career? The company would pay for that! He was the most compassionate, supportive, and empathetic of people, and I learned a lot from him. But I persisted. I was sure that if I understood the people I worked with better, that I’d be happier. My colleagues then, including my then-manager, hailed from all over the world: Turkey, England, Barbados, Russia, India, Argentina, France, Jordan, China, Japan, Sri Lanka, Scotland, Greece, Ukraine, even Florida. ;-). Just kidding. But even folks from Canada and Colorado brought a slightly different set of assumptions and work habits to our projects. And in the years that followed that remained true; like so many people I worked at a global company. What would facilitate my success and well-being more effectively than understanding the traditions and beliefs that my colleagues were raised with?
Some years later, after 9/11, he told me he thought my decision had been a good one.
Which brings me back to Swami Sadyojathah. The ancient practice of meditation remains, I believe, the single most effective practice for achieving happiness. It’s better, even, than wine, which I have been known to leverage toward blissful forgetfulness on more than one occasion.
Meditation and self reflection yield more than happiness, too. Self understanding and forgiveness – by-products of meditation – put us in touch with our selves in a way that deepens empathy, compassion, and ultimately understanding. And THAT is a key skill in any collaborative work environment.
Happiness may be the grail many of us seek, but the skills that help us cultivate happiness benefit the people around us. Anyone who has meditated likely knows that it is not a silver bullet, it’s more like a workout; It’s an investment in ourselves. And it builds capacity for leadership, teamwork, and being in community– all skills that evolve from self understanding and insight, which meditation helps cultivate.
I won’t make it to Cambridge for the talk this time. But I appreciate the reminder and the important work that Swami Sadyojathah is doing in the world, for everyone.
The fact that our gut biome greatly benefits from putting our hands in the dirt is probably one of the most meaningfully religious doctrines I know – and I have a graduate degree in religion, so I’m as serious as a heart attack about that.
I mention it here because this is about the time that I start to pare back my expectations for the year. I reserve the right to adjust my hopes back based on the amount of chicken poop and other compost I can gather! But here’s the early plan:
I plan to volunteer as a gleaner and grant writer for Farming Falmouth, too, and there aren’t enough hours in the day for everything, but again, this is a first ambitious draft.
Carrots, spinach, onions, cauliflower and (hidden) garlic in the bottom right, chamomile, beets, arugula, broccoli and radishes stop right corner, tomatoes, basil, swiss chard, beans, and calendula middle top and an assortment of winter squash top left. the middle rectangle is an imaginary patio that currently does not exist but could have our picnic table on it someday.
happy green beans in the garden
Not shown is an herb garden (bottom right, out a window to the right of the kitchen table) that will have many of my favorites – lemon balm, fennel, verbena, parsley, more chamomile (because who can have enough?), peppermint, monarch and hyssop for the pollinators (center because they are tall), some more sage, a rhubarb plant (also center), rosemary, lavender, bay leaves, lemongrass, tulsi, purple basil, asclepia for the monarda butterflies. And more flowers elsewhere including my favorite zinna and some marigolds because they just get along with everyone. The space will be big but that’s okay. Flanking this against the fence – a hedge of raspberries. What’s missing? Potatoes. We love them, we eat them, they aren’t here.
That said, we can get them at the local Pariah Farm farmstand. I welcome visitors and will gladly share what we grow.
My son decided to drop out of his college program with approximately one year remaining. He has practical reasons for this, but also, he was stressed out and his health wasn’t benefiting from the lifestyle and pressure he had. One way he chose to address the stress was to buy a bottle of “adaptogens” – capsules filled with Ashwagandha, Rhodiola root, and Schisandra berry. Most of us have heard of adaptogens – plants that help us manage and recover from stress – and Tristan found them to be very useful to him as he tried to balance his full-time course load with a new business that he was trying to get off the ground.
In my studies, I’ve learned that some producers are sourcing their plant material unethically – many are, in fact – and so I suggested he allow me to make capsules with the same adaptogens in them. This way I was able to ensure the herbs are sourced ethically, which is important to me.
As so often happens, the universe was presenting me with a prompt; I would really benefit from taking adaptogens in, as well! One of my key aims is finding flow during my day. Being “in flow” comes with focus, intention, even meditation, and having a bit of support from one’s parasympathetic nervous system is a like riding a beneficial tide in the right direction! When we are in flow we are channeling creative energy, intuition, and doing our best work.
Along with the bumps, periodic grief and loss, and stresses of life, most of us (myself included) are at least a little overloaded (even strung out) on information overload and the pace of modern living. So engaging a parasympathetic nervous state is seriously helpful to most of us. A few adaptogenic herbal friends that can help with that:
Ashwagandha (withania somnifera) is traditionally an ayurvedic herb, and is a thyroid adaptogen. Not great if you have a hyperthyroid, It stimulates the thyroid, affecting and regulating the adrenals, and increases thyroid hormones that circulate through the body. It’s also anti-inflammatory. It’s beneficial for fatigue and insomnia, encouraging deeper, restorative sleep.
Rhodiola (Rhodiola rosea) has also been used for centuries – since at least 1100 AD – in Scandinavia and Russia, where it thrives in cold climates. It’s root is an adaptogen, containing more than 140 active ingredients, and is used to treat anxiety, fatigue, and depression. It is known to support the immune system, and protect against infection and flu.
Schisandra (schisandra chinensis) is native to asia, an antioxidant known to support endurance and resilience, and protective to the liver. It aids the body in returning to a parasympathetic state, helping to manage stress reactions.
There are many adaptogens out there – these are just three that have become popular and have long histories of use.
While you can buy adaptogens in capsules and gummies at pharmacies, it’s not hard to make capsules. This capsule machine and gelatin capsules are readily available to buy online and you can buy powdered herbs from ethical suppliers like Mountain Rose Herbs online.
Wishing you flow, peace, and fun during these lengthening winter days.
Sitting in the grass, sitting bones against the earth, is a birthright few of us spend much time exercising. The energy that flows up into us from the earth is so different from the experience of sitting in a chair; taking the time to sit intentionally, allowing source energy to enliven your spine, support your legs, bottom, and root chakra (the energy center that resides at the base of the spine), is self-prescribed therapy. Resting directly on the Earth reminds us of our connection to everything, and allows us to root and be present to our body in a way that is intensely grounded, momentary, and personal.
The feeling of the soil, soft and malleable, accommodating, invites us to sit for a while as indigenous humans do, with our bottoms pointing behind us to support our backs, vertebrae stacked, root chakra at the base, breathing in the smell of grass, flowers, or other flora nearby, and the soil, warmed by the sun. Or lie down and look up, clouds floating by in a panoply of shapes. The trees arcing up to touch the sky, birds criss-crossing above.
With the earth beneath and around you, you might feel that you come from this earth, are part of this earth, one with the wind, the birds, all growing, crawling things. Or you might just feel a little better, more grounded. I’d bet, though, that you won’t just do it once.
Consciousness, spirituality and awareness are important topics – and hot ones – that rightly inspire earnest attention for many of us. We all want to be the best version of ourselves that we can.
And I think the uniqueness each of us can bring to the journey of self actualization is such a rich thing to ponder on.
Whatever path you embrace – a traditional path of Christianity, Buddhism, Judaism, Islam, an “alternative” path of Earth-based consciousness, a philosophical approach like Taoism or anything else – I think the trick is marrying your beliefs with your day to day existence, your relationships, your way of being in the world – and making your spiritual practice be the way you live. Which is hard.
I feel like every practice puts forward a set of ideals and ideas that we feel driven to embody. And we struggle with not being perfect or measuring up. I catch myself showering too long when I know that conserving water is a value I hold close, for instance. I get irritated with my rescue dog hound for her incessant barking when I love her and value empathy and care toward the planet and its residents over most everything else. And I don’t always choose products at the grocery store that sport the least packaging or most earth-friendly production methods/sources. Worst of all, I have a long commute to work.
Right along with that, I am not caring for myself the way that I want to and should. I don’t meditate as much as I’d like to. I don’t exercise as much as I’d like to. And like so many of us I’m critical of myself.
But I think being on a spiritual path has more to do with accepting what you find in yourself and incorporating that into the ideal you are striving toward. Noting what’s hard, allowing that to be a part of the process, and seeing that you ARE the thing you embrace, you ARE the experience of striving toward your own actualization.
Otherwise your mind would not have alighted on a resolve to walk the path you are on.
If you think you are imperfect consider: the pursuit of the ideal is the point, not the attainment of it.
And if you think you are perfect, that’s another thing altogether.
The Hindu tradition has a thing called Dharma – it means many things but in my days of studying religion I understood it as accepting and being the best you can on the path you find yourself on. Be your best you with the circumstances and work you find yourself in.
It’s a little like being Charlie Brown. Of all the Charlie Browns, your the Charlie Browniest.
I sit in front of a west-facing window when I work from home, under the branches of a great old Ash tree. It reaches over and past the window, protectively shading the house and reaching up high into the sky. I imagine it’s cooler up there in the topmost branches, and that the tree knows I’m down here.
These trees are becoming rare in the states because of an invasive beetle called the emerald ash borer. Cute little guys, they are a shiny turquoise and plum color with a kind of kaleidoscope finish like they were dipped in a jar of glaze. And they like to eat ash leaves. Unfortunately for the Ash, the larvae of the borers eat the inside bark of the tree, making it hard for the trees to transport water up the trunk, which is how trees absorb water and nutrients. The larvae spell disaster for the trees, and over time the Ash trees die of thirst.
We are fighting for ours; we hired a company to treat the trees in an effort to fight off the beetles. It’s expensive but when I look at the tree that can’t be saved – the oldest, largest, most graceful of them, which was too far gone to be treated by the tree specialists when we bought the house – my resolve hardens.
These trees aren’t particularly huggable. Some trees are, practically inviting you to wrap your arms around them and lay your face against them, but the Ash trees have a stand-offish air, seem aloof and distant and seem to want their space. Still, they are my favorites, probably because they are struggling.
The biggest of them, with a trunk that is more than seven feet in circumference, has more than a third of its majestic branches defoliated. It is hard to watch it decline; it exudes a kind of pride, even now, that is undeniable. People come to the house and notice it – beginning to remark on its beauty, taking it in, looking more carefully – and then they stop speaking. It’s like that. A sudden realization you’ve said something offensive, or sad, without meaning to.
The trees around us have a kind of slow, deliberate presence and awareness, existing in a symbiotic relationship to us and around us, reaching up to meet the sky, joining the earth with the heavens.
On a starry, moonless night, there’s silence, except for some wind in the tree tops. The bare limbs of the deciduous trees – usually imposing shadows lit by the brilliant cornflower-midnight blue night sky – are almost invisible.
This moon looks like other dark moons but today’s New York times featured an announcement that 2018 was the 4th warmest year on record – the 4 warmest being within the last 4 years. I’m not a statistician but I’m pretty sure that is not normal. The planet is warming up. We could even say it has a fever.
As if to underscore the point, I saw a bird today that I’ve never seen before. The feathers of it’s head had a pretty red sheen- a kind of sparrow or finch. Not a cardinal. And not a bird I’ve ever seen here. A newcomer to my feeder. Perhaps she found her way here because of changing weather patterns? Or perhaps I’ve just never noticed her before. But that seems unlikely.
And while trees and bulbs know better than to blossom early, I see kids walking around in summer clothes when Massachusetts temps reach 55 degrees Fahrenheit in February. It’s a little surreal.
Okay, they are teenagers. Not that surreal. But, still.
The dark moon favors sleeping, letting go, decluttering. Making way for something new to grow.
Like a sense of deepening connection to the planet. A personal relationship, even.
Every thing we create and the energy we consume comes from the planet and the elements. And it returns to … the planet and the elements: the water, the air, consumed by fire, or buried in the earth.
This dark moon seems to be suggesting that we cultivate more awareness and commitment to the planet. That we let go of our need to consume every cool/adorable thing we see and maybe use less energy. Our choices about these things are choices in our relationship to the one and only planet that sustains and nurtures us.
When I bring bags to the grocery and minimize packaging I imagine I’m blowing a kiss to the Earth. And maybe not adding to the giant plastic pile floating in the middle of the ocean. It gives me a little thrill. Really.
If we break (up with) this planet I don’t think we are going to find a better one to live on.
And I am not sure she would give us a second chance.
Winter months are long – days are short, the air freezes your ears and bites your skin till it’s pink and chafed. Still, it’s beautiful to see a field of snow beyond the glass, or rooftops blanketed in white. I would miss the site if it didn’t repeat itself year after year, returning like a family member for a mandatory holiday.
And winter invites us to slow down and turn our attention in. To our interior thoughts, our interior spaces; we are all encouraged to indulge our inner introvert and embrace cozy — this is something the Scandinavians are expert at. I happen to be Norwegian, so I am a subject matter expert in this area. 🙂
Listening to freezing rain pelt the window from the a couch, blanket wrapped around you, is a giant perk of being human in this day and age, if you are fortunate and resourceful enough to have a warm and cozy home. It would be a shame to pass up the opportunity of indulging in winter’s delights.
Among them, hot drinks, giant sweaters, snowboarding, knitting, hearty soups, adorable winter hats and … books.
Here, books fill a 10 foot tall bookshelf arranged in a neat row and then bearing stacks layered horizontally along the top of the row to reach the shelf that hangs above. There are also cabinets filled with books – some behind glass, some behind wooden doors. Topics vary – Rumi, Shakespeare, Engineering, Emergency Medicine, spell craft, the classics – Hesiod and Theogony, the Iliad, et al., modern witchcraft, Islamic poetry and philosophy, Early Gnostic Christianity, Flaubert, Jungian psychology, history, gardening books, astrology, Arthur Conant Doyle, the Dalai Lama … and it goes on…
Standing in front of them brings me feelings of comfort, happiness and security. So many hours of pleasure there in those books just waiting. All I have to do is select one and settle on a nearby couch, wrap up like a burrito in a throw blanket, crack it open, and settle in.
The weeks between Yule and Imbolg, when the first seeds will stir, is a kind of gestation time, a tide perfectly suited to looking inward to take stock of where you are. What you can be grateful for, what challenges and adventures you wish to engage when the snow finally melts.
Because it will. The days are lengthening. So savor winter – enjoy it in whatever way it speaks to you – while it lasts.
Backyard Botanics 