Sparkling Lotus-land

heart centered/congruence

The pictures in this post were taken on Sunday.   Several friends who read here have cuttings from the beautiful angel wing begonia who was ready for her close-up while I was having an immensely enjoyable rambling discussion with my son.  He didn't mind at all when I picked up my camera.  We continued to talk while I clicked and he followed closely on my heels. 

 

He's been following me around - specifically so we can keep talking while I also do something of a creative nature - since he first started walking.  There's a very comforting rhythm to it; it's a dance of our fundamental relationship to each other and the ways we've found to support and encourage each other's strongest impulses.  Since the weekend there's been a big change in daily life for both of us.  After a lengthy phase of borrowing my car to get back and forth to work - plus have some semblance of a twenty-something social life - Tony has purchased his own vehicle.   This means he's driving something he actually wants to drive and, not at all beside the point, I have access to wheels all the time. 

The shift is coming at a point when I also have some accumulated energy reserves.  So I actually want to be out and about as a matter of course and have the improved faculties necessary for driving.  So far I have stuck to ventures in a three town radius but that doesn't feel at all restrictive.  My plan is to build up endurance for longer drives and social happenstances.  For now it's been an immense improvement just to run my own errands and take a few brisk walks in some of my favorite local spots.  Once I publish this post I'm off for a power walking route that's new to me; I dreamed it last night.

Sleep is coming A LOT more easily and my quality of rest has greatly improved.  So has my pain thresh-hold.  Mental and physical metabolic process is HUGELY improved. Muscle wasting has reversed itself and I'm reconnected with a morning yoga practice that feels quite wonderful.  I'm getting re-immersed in writing related to flower essence research and land healing ventures.   Am balancing those efforts with a parallel re-connection to some of my favorite creative passtimes.  All these much-appreciated improvements are accompanied by greater mindfulness on my part.  I'm taking none of the positive shifts for granted and will do my best to maintain a commitment to well-balanced goals both large and small.

The begonia in these images was once a very modest handful of cuttings - nearly 30 years ago - from a plant of unknown age.  It was flourishing madly when I first inherited it as part of my office surroundings at a clerical job from hell.  I like to think the cuttings were as pleased to escape the generalized toxicity of the environment as I was thrilled to eventually leave it and move on to a completely different phase of life experience and aspiration.  Two years back the cuttings-turned-grandmother-in-their-own-right reached upwards and outwards to seven square feet.  I cut her back somewhat severely and many friends received the trimmings.  Nowadays I periodically receive pictures of the large happy plants that have grown from them.

The plant's current dimensions are still substantial but not completely overwhelming.    She's happy in the western light of a living room window.  Her former place in this alcove has been taken by one of the gardenias and a strawberry guava.  This summer both of these young trees sustained impressive growth spurts.  They could no longer take a place on top of this desk or in the available window space in Jim's music room.  I'm grateful I have much more energy to tend to all the exotic plants that winter-over in the house.  At their stage(s) of maturing development they need proper feeding, grooming and attentive pruning for maximum flowering and continued health.

I considered the angel wing begonia to be a guardian spirit of the creative flow in my workroom.  Now that she's changed her place in the house I am noticing the same protective vibration encircling the combination dining/living room.  As a family we spend a lot of our shared time there.   The begonia has been flowering prolifically ever since she settled herself on the cedar chest beside the table where we read books and eat the majority of our meals.   There's a belief to which I subscribe:  that flowering plants put on "extra" blooming displays when they're particularly happy and well-connected to the landscape at hand.  It's an idea that's always made sense to me both emotionally and by way of experiental observation...

shifting directions

The general landscape of Sparkling Lotus-land is changing on a daily basis.  Lush green knolls have been softened by the first drifts of New England asters.  Deep shadows beneath the trees are now brightened by brilliant flares of goldenrod flowers and gleaming scarlet belladona fruits.   The distinctive sharp-yet-honeyed scent of Queen Anne's Lace is everywhere. As the last few weeks of summer unwind themselves I've been enjoying daily therapeutic sun-sitting sessions in the center of the main garden bed.  It's felt so good to enter this part of my world very gently.  I'm enjoying a reconnected awareness of this beloved space from the perspective of a silent component.  It's quite different from pushing my way into the Other-ness of it all while being primarily immersed in a series of groundskeeping tasks.  There's plenty to see from my re-established stillpoint - including lots of insect drama.

And the evocative dream-nourishing scent of gardenia blooms is so wonderfully restorative that I tend to set my camp chair quite near the two bushes.  They smell stronger as the sun fades into evening but even at high noon they add a topnote of sweetness.

I believe one very important reason why the puzzling pile-up of health questions 'suddenly' began to form a strongly recognizable pattern is - you guessed it - my diligent work with flower essences.   I am continuing that regime with two brand new synergies that were formulated and prepared just a few short days before learning the results of my latest blood work.  I may have been thinking along somewhat specific pre-determined lines when I concocted the formulations but the healing applications of the essences I selected are also very well suited to my emergent needs.

Having modified my existing goals and expectations so that the bulk of my energy and focus can remain fixed on personal quantum healing needs, I really don't have much clue of what I'll be doing as summer melts into autumn.   The passageway of one season changing into another is very familiar and yet, during this particular transition, it's also virgin territory.

I'm resolved to stay as proactive and diligent as possible; understanding there will be slow and especially challenging days (today was one of them...) along with brilliant instances of profound growth and rejuvenation.  In the past week I've experienced some very positive shifts - in my attitude as well as direct circumstance.  My work output is modest and so is my daily to-do list.  This is something that's becoming more normalized for me and doesn't necessarily evoke panic or internalized alarm bells. And that, too, is progress - of a very useful and empowering nature!

tonight...

...it's much too hot on the second floor of our house.  The guys are toughing it out up there but Celeste and I will be sleeping in the slightly cooler living room.  The two gardenia bushes are blooming just outside the living room window and this is a beautiful trade-off for me; I love sleeping with gardenia tinged dreams.

Even as the physical days grow shorter I feel that they are becoming much longer due to my energy flow.  In the past month or so I've found that I get a lot of stuff done even when I have days (like the one that just past) where I am obliged to scale back on my plans and aspirations.  There is abundant evidence of my personal blessings and these far outweigh the difficulties I've been experiencing.

There's a lot I'd like to share about life's unfoldings but for now I am wishing all readers some portion of sweet dreams...

inside & out

Yesterday I literally woke up in a state of beginner's mind.  It was raining and I found my ears and inner consciousness highly attuned to the atmosphere.  Looking through the window I could see the silver maple branches looming through mist.  The sound of water hitting leaves and grounds has become very familiar here in the northeast.  I am the first to admit that I am not always delighted by it; sometimes I wake up feeling restless for sunlight.

I noticed right away that there was an absence of even a glimmer of that restlessness.  I was glad it was raining.  I felt myself cleansed by it at a psychic and emotional level.   This was like finding a very smooth and super appealing river stone - the kind you have to bend over and retrieve to turn it around in your palm.  You stare as if it's a scrying mirror even if you don't believe in such things.

Later the sun came out and I was even more delighted.   Grabbed my camera to move through the jeweled green and colorful highlights of the garden beds.  It occurred to me that I was remaining utterly willing to stay suspended in the moment.  I wasn't doing anything to be in that place; it's just how I was at the core level.  To my way of thinking this kind of extended trance is always an enormous gift of Self for self as well as the larger environment.

I wasn't planning to share the following life tidbit but, since I think the experience and my reaction to it has so much to do with my state of ongoing zen, I've decided what the hell.  On Tuesday afternoon I was cleaning my kitchen floor.  Right after I started the second rinse I fell.  I hit the floor hard in a fullout belly flop position.  My mind registered the loud and rather sickening smack of my body making contact with the linoleum.  I realized most of weight had landed on my knee (the "bad" one I might add) and that I'd hit my nose pretty hard.

My first fully formed thought was thank god I didn't make floor contact with my mouth.  I might have cracked some teeth.  Then I thought shit.  I said it out loud a couple of times.  That left me free to shake the shock off enough to be practical and start a useful campaign of response. I thought Ice.  Get up off this floor and put some ice on your nose and knee.  As the day progressed into evening I realized I was bruised but not broken.  And, thanks to the ice and how diligently I applied it, I wasn't that bruised, either.

I knew I was going to wake up very sore and, indeed, yesterday was quite slowed down in the physical sense.  Fortunately I was in the middle of reading an excellent novel so that helped me stay quiet and relaxed while my body healed.  This involved wearing glasses more than I usually do so by nightfall the bridge of my nose was pretty damn sore.  Fortunately my knee is doing quite well.  All of me is fine.  And I have had the gratifying experience of re-calling the accident in minute detail for my husband and son.

It's a weird form of satisfaction to take but there's definitely something cleansing about standing on the scene of an accident and going through a play-by-play.  And then I went down, right there.  Look how close I was to the sink!  I could have whacked my head but good on that or the edge of the counter but I didn't!  I do feel extremely lucky about not hitting my head.  And, also, that I fell front-ways rather than backwards.  If I'd done the latter I'm pretty sure I would have wrenched my back and, more than likely, still not able to sit here at my desk this morning.

While I was icing my body I watched a film called Stranded.  It is partially a documentary and also a re-enactment of a South American plane wreck in the early 1970's.  In recent times the survivors traveled to the site of their 72 day ordeal with a film crew and some family members.  This is not a movie for the squeamish or faint of heart but I believe it's an extremely well made film and am quite glad to have seen it.   So many difficult and seemingly 'impossible' subjects were embraced and articulated as an expressive mandala of tremendous significance.

Today I woke up before the rain started.  But now here it is again moving from a soft patter to more serious rhythms.  As I was typing that sentence a female hummingbird approached the window by my desk.  She hovered right above eye level and looked in at me.  This is only the second time I've seen a hummingbird this year. Must be time to change the feeder syrup!

The novel I've been enjoying really was a fully satisfying read.  I learned about it by happening upon a glowing review in The Improper Bostonian while I was waiting for Jim to finish a meeting the weekend we went into town.  I was intrigued enough to list the book in my carry-along all purpose notebook and then request it through inter-library loan.  This is wonderful story of two sisters, culture clashes, unalterable/regrettable choices, and many other things.  Tania James has a sharp and humanistic eye for detail and a profoundly generous heart that's well applied to character development and internalized landscaping.

In recent months I have been collecting a lot of book cover art to keep in my creative source journal.  I am making note of design trends as well as what I like about them.  Sometimes the covers inspire me to play on their themes.  In this case it will be challenging not to mimic what I like in a direct fashion.  Because I've been thinking:  in the atlas of my own 'unknowns' what linear maps of actual places form the backcloth and highlights?  It's a question that's bringing a great deal to mind and so last night I asked my husband - the compulsive map collector - if he had anything on hand that was too worn out to use/obsess over but still whole enough to provide graphic interest.

He told me he'd 'bring the box down' so I could look through it.  I almost clutched at him with excitement.  He has an entire box of such treasures?  I think I sort of knew that without having a clue of how much delighted anticipation I'd feel at the prospect of benefiting from perusal of the cache ...

everything all at once

As is typical of summer's midpoint the form and texture of the garden is drastically changed.  For the past few days we've had sun for several hours and most of the rain has been coming at night.  I feel like my life is mirroring the same sort of extreme weather patterns and intensive hyper-growth.  At this point I have two other posts in draft mode but they both need more attention before they're ready for posting.

I've been involved with so many different things in the past week that it's really difficult to summarize.  A lot of attention has needed to go to SLI concerns.  There has been an explosion of orders for flower essences.  I usually order dropper bottles etc. every quarter year.  Each time I get roughly twice as many bottles as I think I will need.  Last week I had to place an 'emergency' order to keep pace with the output.  So it's been dizzying especially since I was re-routing some orders during the period of time when I was unwell and felt this left me too energetically unbalanced to handle the mother stocks or any flower essences that weren't meant strictly for my own use.

It would seem I got healthy just in time!  In the midst of the flurrying activity I felt it wise to do a bit of updating on my website.  If you haven't visited in a while, you may want to take a look.

Some weeks back I prepared a key lime flower essence.  Lime remedies are wonderful cleansers - just like the rest of the citrus family.   Key lime has a special affinity for helping us to make wise choices and important decisions that will showcase and invigorate our personal strong suits and most significant healing powers.  I have been working with this essence personally for the past week or so and I really love it.  Lime essences are super-restorative and they do wonders for the the secondary heart and hand chakras as well as eye-hand-heart coordination.

My key lime plant has set fruit as well as a fresh flush of blooms.  I am so besotted by these developments that it isn't even funny.  Most days I try to take at least five or ten minutes to just sit quietly with this plant. It's worth the effort even though "quiet" and my garden are something of a contradiction of terms at the moment.  I am really hoping I will have a chance to get some tidying chores done over the next couple of days.  Taking some concentrated creative time in my work room is also super-important to me. 

 

Amidst the general acceleration of orders there's been a run on the gardenia ray panacea.  It's right in line with a new flush of gardenia buds.  This is another plant that I try to sit with as often as possible.  I have two fortuniana bushes that have been with me since they were only two sprigs in tiny pots from Logees.

As many readers know I prepare each flower essence on a per-order basis.  It's not the most efficient system but I believe it is the most potentizing for the essences, my overall relationship with the attendant plant medicine spirits, and an individual connection-link for recipients of the remedies.   When I was preparing the first panacea synergy in the run I noticed that the comfrey essence has been compromised.  I decided to switch it out with a simple triad blend that contains feverfew and prunella as well as comfrey. 

Over the weekend, when the sun finally broke through, I was able to prepare a new comfrey essence.  It was an unexpected opportunity; I had just finished explaining to several customers that I had no idea when I'd be able to do this so I'd been making the Triage Trio substitution in the panacea synergy's recipe.  My surprise at the unexpected opportunity to co-create with the comfrey flowers was underlined by a flair of appreciation for the garden spirits' sense of humor.  It never fails even when mine temporarily takes a long walk off a short peer...

old stompings grounds

Jim and I spent Friday afternoon and early evening in Boston and Cambridge.  The pictures in this post are from our lunchtime visit to two community gardens along the Charles River.

We brought camp chairs and burritos for a little picnic beside the Christian Herter Community Garden.   It was a relaxing nostalgic experience to return to the scene of many enjoyable hours during our years in Boston.  After we'd eaten we visited the nearby Charles River gardens where we kept a plot during our last three summers in town.

Walking along the edges of both spaces and vicariously enjoying so many different plots brimming with life was enormous fun.  I found it especially inspiring to see how much the Charles River gardens have matured in the 13 years since I last visited them.  Now there is a small orchard and bee yard ... more on that particular addition a bit later in the week.

I have never made much of a secret out of the fact that I still miss Boston a great deal.  People who only know me in the context of my current environment often find it inconceivable that I spent so many years living in the city.   They cannot believe that I thrived in an urban setting but, indeed, I did.  Everytime I return I find myself torn between simply enjoying the moment and wishing it was somehow possible to live in two places at the same time...

resurfacing

This picture was taken on Sunday morning to document the out-of-control quality of the rainy garden.  Since then there's been more sun than rain.  And I am feeling well enough to get out there for at least a few minutes of task mastering each day.   Have been focused mainly on cutting back some of the herbs before they come into flower.  Anise hyssop and lemon balm have received the most attention from me.  Both leaves make nice teas.

Lemon balm is a wonderfully soothing digestive aid that can be a special friend to those with thyroid imbalances.   Many of my herb-savvy friends sent me articles about this ally while I was dealing with the most overt symptoms of Graves Disease.  While the plant holds strong affinity for over active thyroid issues it can also punch-up an under-functioning gland as well.  The herb also holds mild sedative and anti-depressant properties.  It's extremely easy to grow - falling into the invasive plant category for many gardeners.  I don't mind how much the plant expands because I adore its energy.

Anise hyssop is nice for sinus congestion.  The plant has a warming property that makes it especially good for chilly days throughout the fall season.  I have also been harvesting spearmint.  This is one of my favorite simple remedies for a host of common ailments.  It's a very good digestive aid; not as harsh as peppermint so that makes it a good and solid choice for the whole family. 

Each year I make fresh tincture from the leaves.  This is good for a "quick" digestive aid especially at times when brewing up a cup of tea simply isn't practical.  You can keep a small dropper bottle of tincture on ready hand in the medicine cabinet and a purse or backpack.  The remedy will also come in handy for headaches.  Try this if you are traveling and stuck in a hermetically sealed room with stale air:  Moisten a washcloth with hot water .  Place a few drops of the tincture on the side of the washcloth that will not lay directly against your face.  Lay the cloth against your forehead and relax for 10-20 minutes. 

note:  this kind of refreshment may be especially helpful when you are cutting back on caffeine or getting rid of it altogether.

My latest round of health concerns has given me plenty of time to think about ways I might enhance and refine my general quality of life.    And, also, to re-visit my core priorities.  After awhile I think we get so accustomed to that core that we don't necessarily question whether or not decisions we've made in the past tense still serve us as well as we need to be served by our own choice-making process.

For the past week I have been watching the white climbing roses pictured above coming into bloom just beyond my desk window.  I have spent the time I've been at my desk working on a writing project  that will need a lot more energy and focus to reach a publishable form.  It has seemed as if the climbing roses have been talking to me about the ways I'll need to make shifts in order to reach my goals in way that will be effective as well as satisfying.

Well.  On the other hand it nearly always seems as if some flowering plant or another is talking to me ...

rare sunlight

I was delighted to see some sunlight today.  It's become something of a unique experience in these parts!  Am still a bit under the weather but have started to come around; my online absence was caused by a bacterial infection that's been quite uncomfortable and a little scary.  Over the past five days I've spun myself a healing cocoon that's been well-buffered by family, some good books, and the garden.

Everything smells so wonderful right now.  There are innumerable roses in bloom, the tail end of the mock oranges, and garden heliotrope a/k/a valerian.

In the early afternoon Celeste and I had a fine time exploring a variety of overgrown details.   The abundance of rain has led to growth so lush it may take me some time to create order in the beds.  But I do admit to having a preference for ragged edges and a good measure of wildness so it's all well when it zens.  Right now the main pathways are little more than game trails.  It's a very good place to disappear within the landscape and enjoy a closer look at the proliferation of the green nations.

Many of the plants are getting a bit leggy from the lack of sunlight.  The sweet fennel is already taller than I am and the goldenrod and globe thistles are at eye level. 

The Spirea japonica bush has just begun to bloom.  I pruned it fairly severely in mid-spring but that has only encouraged such bounteous growth that I'm in a bit of shock.  Must get an overhead shot from my bedroom window so you can see what I mean.

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I hope the sun will make another appearance for at least part of the day.  Most of our family celebrations hold a strong focus on special meals and visits to extra-favorite locations.  Plus birthdays always mean cake.  This year I'll need a postponement on these staples of how we roll.   Am far too week for a trip to the beach or even Snow Pond and still don't have much of an appetite.  But I'm definitely in a good mood and have every expectation that I'll continue to recuperate at a steady pace.  Will try to resume blog visiting on Wednesday...

the long sun daze

The garden is bursting with lovely flowers; each and every one of them clamoring for the elusive sun.  That bright Grandfather has been playing hide and seek for most of the day.  The house is smudged, relatively clean, and now we are preparing for drums & rattles as evening rises to greet us.

I like to burn gold candles in honor of solstice points but couldn't find any today.  Luckily, during a recent visit to a free trade gift store, I selected the pair above on the off chance I'd need a back up plan.  We are celebrating the summer solstice all weekend long.   And have decided to make some noise tonight lest the sun forget us all together!

This coquettish baby snake is serving as a representation for all the new changes and unexpected twists of fate & design.  Love her bright green eyes!

There are orange calendula and yellow rose bouquets flanking the ceremonial candles.

Aren't the yellow foxgloves lovely?  There are dozens of blooming stalks scattered throughout the beds.

And the airy fairy meadow rue is at full peak.  Earlier today I counted 33 flower heads on the angelica plant pictured below.

These fringed loveliness dianthus flowers are incredibly fragrant.  I can smell them from my bedroom (sweet dreams indeed!) even though they are a house-length away and at ground level.

Pick up a rattle, or some other favorite noise maker, and join me won't you?

all roads lead ...

It's been chilly and rain-soaked here in the northeast.  Yesterday afternoon the Thunder Beings rolled through and subsequent cloudbursts seemed to have an extra bit of cleansing power to them.  When the sun came out at noon today I dropped what I was doing in order to inspect the garden with camera in hand.

For the better part of a week this entire town has been edged with the scent of wild roses.  Now more domesticated forms are coming into bloom within the garden beds.  I have periodically considered blog posts I might make: life-changing adventures and invigorating day trips I could describe, books I've read and enjoyed enough to share some details, the usual cocaphony of thoughts and opinions...yet now, having gotten as far as actually calling up the typepad program, I find myself back where I so often begin with glimpses of the garden as she grows.

This year the self-sown milkweed in the front yard has formed a rough circle that Jim dubbed Stonehenge.  Yesterday I moved between the raindrops to start setting some of the houseplants within the milkweed's protective embrace.  It's been cold enough to procrastinate this yearly chore but finally the time seems ripe.  At this point I have only the heaviest pots to move outside and will need to help to get that accomplished.

Gauging the number of buds and the stage of their development would indicate we'll have plenty of yellow roses for our summer solstice altar.  Am planning to make a new sun-colored cloth as well.

A prolific crop of gooseberries is ripening.  The meadow rue has grown to eye level this year ...

The last of the Siberian iris have bloomed today.  This plant has really enjoyed the wet spring and it's been nice to have an extra-big flush of blooms at the back edge of the main bed.

Out in the front yard I recently discovered that Sweet William dianthus cross-bred with Rainbow Loveliness.  These flowers are SUPER fragrant and richly evocative in their scent.  I will be glad to save the seeds and see if they produce the same cross-strain or revert to type.  In the meantime I will undoubtedly savor every bloom from the half a dozen plants that have sprung up in a very inconvenient location from a lawn grooming perspective.  Fortunately such things are not of primary concern to anyone in this household.  Much to certain neighbors' chagrin but them's the breaks...