Different Gifts

I had a rocky night with an unhappy stomach and discovered more of the same upon awakening. I have had a quiet day so far and have eaten only enough to keep my glucose levels from falling too low. The condition of my stomach is in stark contrast to the gorgeous day outside. I had hoped to do some transplanting today but am not sure I will have the energy.
My house plants have thrived in this house. There are lots of big, wide windows and the light is excellent for growing things. At present the pots are burgeoning and greenery is overflowing to the point of 'we have to do something about this'. I have two plants with the potential to be indoor trees and they are calling out for more space. I may go to the nursery on Thursday with Phil and not only purchase more plants but also some new pots. I will need some pretty big pots for the wanna be trees and it will be great to have Phil to carry them.
I watched an interesting Iron Chef yesterday. There were 2 pairs of chefs who met Mrs. Obama in the White House vegetable garden. Vegetables from the garden were the secret ingredient that the chefs were to use in the competition. The garden must be cared for by experts in addition to the school children who work on it as the vegetables were magnificent. It was suggested that those of us in the audience could also plant and harvest our own vegetables even in small spaces. My handicap in the yard that I have relative to growing vegetables is that I don't have a lot of sun. It is one of the few disappointments I have about this property. My southern boundary is bordered by trees and shrubs going from 25' to maybe as high as 50' and very little sun is let in until early afternoon. But whatever the obstacles, I am inspired once again to try some vegetables. I did have a vegetable garden at the Alta Hacienda house that some of you knew but it too suffered from not enough sunlight.
Growing one's own vegetable garden inevitably makes me think of my son Johnnie who was such a gifted enthusiast about gardening. My parents were great gardeners - flowers and edibles, and I always loved the link from them to me to him. It is a beautiful energy to share especially now that Johnnie and my parents have died. The joy of the garden remains and keeps us connected. Your image, Jen, of joy as a tree comes to mind - stunning image. I so appreciate your sharing it.
And I marvel at your many techie talents. Such fun to see your Vlog. I don't know how to do so many of the techie things but I so enjoy that other people can do them. I do have a talent for being audience.
A poem I wrote some time ago speaks to that talent:

Different Gifts

I have the soul of the poet,
but not the pen.
I tremble with the music
but cannot write the song.

It's simple then.
Just tremble.

Love you all.

Keeping At It

I love reading blogs and to please those of you like me, who also like reading them, I am making a contribution today. Actually I am choosing this activity over some things that don't have much appeal - like going through all my files and weeding out what is no longer relevant. Sometimes I love to do that but it is not speaking to me today. Or I could go out in the garage and clean all the inside glass in my car and Armoral all the leather. I got up extra early this morning because Phil comes at eight so I don't have that kind of energy at 4 p.m.
I have just come back from getting my mail, going over to Lincoln Plaza and getting gas and having my car serviced. Went in to AJ's to see if they had hearing aid batteries (they did not) and bought 3 fat free, sugar free bran/raisin muffins. Just finished a pleasant late afternoon snack of a muffin and a glass of skim milk.
Two things I will do before dinner are to meditate for a half hour and burn 100 calories on the bike.
Just took a minute out to call Lis. I have felt ever since she left Steinberg that she was out somewhere in the ether and I wanted to nail down some ways we could communicate. Got that straightened out.
I have made some plans for the weekend. Dorothy and I will see Broken Embraces at Camelview 5 tomorrow night and go for ice cream after and if the timetable works Sara and I will go see a musical review that Rusty Ferracane is in. On Sunday, having become a Cardinals fan these past 2 years, I will be watching them play the Green Bay Packers in the first round of the playoffs. The teams are evenly matched but the Packers are a hot team right now so will be a challenge to get past.
Outside my window I see a dozen pink roses in various stage of bloom. As you fellow desert dwellers know this is not the high season for gardens right now. Mine look pretty good but I look forward to Spring and being more active outside. Phil and I are always working on new projects and it is very satisfying.
I find I go back and forth in my mind over whether to become more involved in the world - join a group or two, do volunteer work, or maintain this call to 'monkhood'.
Phil and I were discussing it this morning. He grew up on a ranch surrounded by acres of open space and mingling with taciturn cowboys. Such conditioning turned him towards monkhood and he has to push himself to socialize. I enjoy socializing - love to be with and around people but I love the silence and serenity of the way I live. My property is like a cloister. Unless I put my eye up to a clear spot in the stained glass by my front door I don't see a person or a car from one day to the next. My views are sky, trees, the pool and waterfall and shrubs and flowers. At this very moment I hear absolutely nothing. As much as I love music I ask myself "Do you want to listen to something right now?" Nine times out of ten all I want to hear is silence.
It is not really surprising. Despite being brought up in a sea of people, in and out of 4 or 5 houses, playing daily with 15 or so other children I have a deeply contemplative side. It certainly did not get much air time raising a family of 10. So now it seems fitting that I have lots of space for the part of me that loves solitude. But I am aware that my more gregarous side wants to push the monk out the door.
I own all five of the books by Adyashanti and as part of my morning ritual I read from one of them. At present I am reading the poems of MY SECRET IS SILENCE. Here is one with which I will close today's post.

A TENDENCY TO SHINE

If you prefer smoke over fire
then get up now and leave.
For I do not intend to perfume
your mind's clothing
with more sooty knowledge.
No,I have someting else in mind.

Today I hold a flame in my left hand
and a sword in my right.
There will be no damage control today.

For God is in a mood
to plunder your riches and
fling you nakedly
into such breathtaking poverty
that all that will be left of you
will be a tendency to shine.

So don't just sit around this flame
choking on your mind.
For this is no campfire song
to mindlessly mantra yourself to sleep with.

Jump now into the space between thoughts
and exit this dream
before I burn the damn place down.

Thank you so much for reading.

Pushing Through

I am inspired this morning by your 'pushing through' Jen. I have the exercise thing pretty much in place. Could be doing better with the weights but I do the bike regularly. I have also trained my stomach with months of under eating to just not want very much food at any one time. For the past several weeks I have not recorded my calories (1300 a day) and have eaten pretty much what I wanted. Doing this I lost a little bit of weight. I was put on thyroxine by my doctor a few months ago and I think it is kicking in. Yesterday I started back on recording the calories as I want to see what the effect of the thyroxine will be when I am under eating.
Where I need to push through is in the area of writing. From the time I was a child and particularly in a college writing class I have been encouraged to write. I self published a sort of memoir and then went on to publish another book based on my own individuation journey (Jungian terminolgy). I have been working on a novel for a number of years (mostly not working on it). I did not see myself as having the ability to write a novel (I marvel at those who do) and nothing so far has changed my mind. The arena in which I do seem to have some gift is poetry. The very best novels come close to or attain the level of poetry for me. It appears to be the genre through which the heart speaks the most clearly. As I have mentioned in a previous post it takes courage for me to write poetry. It is the genre that most undoes me and challenges the control I seem to need to be comfortable in my skin.
So, thanks Jen for helping me push through today and at least write something!(if only to bemoan how I don't write).
I have written many poems and have them sorted into categories. A few are COMPLETE. Many NEED MORE WORK. Others I descrbe as NOT WORTH A REWRITE. Bitterness is a COMPLETE poem and Into the Woods is a NEEDS MORE WORK poem.

Bitterness

I'd like to put my bitterness
out on the line
to blow and flap like sheets
in the cleansing, windy sun.
Instead of storing it
forgotten,
rancid food,
hidden in the coldness of
my refrigerator heart.

I'd like to open up the
frozen space
fire it with a savage love
and burn the bitterness away.
And as a flower in the sun
turns light-ward to bloom,
so turn my heart to love
and live in JOY again.


Into the Woods

We never mourn the
ugly things:
The cutting sarcasm,
the deadly neglect of your
child's birthday,
vindictive anger on the freeway,
and endless little bits
of blame
cluttering up your life like so
many toast crumbs on
the tablecloth.

We know instead the loss
of fresh towels laid out
for three
on Mondays,
the comforting, noisy bleat
of Saturdays'
lawnmower,
his trim-jeaned bottom
bending
over daisies,
the grin that says, Hi!
I'm home!"

We even mourn the myths that
never happen:
Like going into the woods together,
and staying in the woods together,
and living happily
ever, ever after.

I have made mention in a previous post of two poems suggested in a conversation that I had with Marth. I did a first draft of I Have Picasso Hanging in my Bathroom and was somewhat pleased with what came up. But it is in the NEEDS MORE WORK file at the moment. Today I am going to brainstorm the second suggested poem which is about how Marth relates spirituality to nature. She mentions that while walking the Preserve she must keep moving to connect to Spirit. There is not a poem yet so I will share what goes into the "stew pot" today.
By the way this poem has not yet found it's title.

Always moving - always moving -
like? walking, walking the Preserve:
ravaged by pain,
savaged by loneliness,
raging at God.
She says in fury "God, I gave myself to you! Today I take myself back!"
Wind - so much wind.
Pale - early moon like a pain dimmed soul.
Spirit moving - out ahead - follow me -
don't stop for the purple stain of lupine,
the breathless amber/gold/mauve sunset
can't stop to feel the wind,
the Spirit out ahead - follow, follow
- wink of the first star -
can't stop - can't stop.
being with the pain,
being the pain,
driven by the pain,
running from the pain,
raging,
sobbing,
dying,dying
-moving, moving,moving.

Perhaps more will go into the stew pot - I don't know - but like Marth's brain the pot will ferment and a poem will begin to emerge. For now, just waiting.
I always love it when I get into this process. It is a mystery to me that I don't do it more often. Will take a lunch break and then address some of the NEEDS MORE WORK poems.