Happy Harvest

"The spiritual journey is not about heaven and finally getting to a place that's really swell."

- Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart

I've just come in from yet another abundant harvest. Tomatoes galore! (I recommend the Arkansas Traveler heirloom variety from Seeds of Change for fat, flavorful slicers.)

Ben has been busy doing all of the canning this summer, and I've been busy giving away to family, friends and neighbors. Our pantry is full of the fruits of our labors, and the season of plenty isn't over yet! There's always more work to do in the garden and in life. Thank you for coming with me on this path.

Harvest is a time to recognize and enjoy how much we've grown. And believe me, we have had abundant growth this year. It's been fun. Well, not all of it. But I love it more each day. To really enjoy the fruits of life, we must lean in closer and look more deeply. Finding the fruits requires us to get down on our hands and knees and get a little dirty, a little itchy, a little... uncomfortable.

The book by buddhist nun Pema Chodron has been calling out to me from the shelf of my local bookstore for nearly a year. Yesterday I finally brought it home and started reading. Chodron reminds us that the courage to look honestly at our selves and to change is available to us in the worst of times. It is when we are humiliated, pissed off, jealous and hurt, that we have the opportunity to discover that all is not lost. We feel as if our bottom is dropping out, until we hit bottom. Then we sense the groundlessness of our beliefs, ideals, attitudes--everything that failed us. Only then do we begin to feel there is something still there, holding us up, cradling us, letting us know that we are okay.

That something is the very ground of our being. It's always there, and yet, we don't know it until we have the courage to lean closer into our wounds and fears and experience them as part of us. Not something to get rid of. Why would we? Aren't these wounds part of what makes us the individuals that we are? Aren't they what eventually leads us to discover our ripest, juiciest fruit?

Indeed, we may never overcome our deepest wounds. But we can become closer to our true nature, our ground of being, by digging deep and getting dirty.

Happy harvest,

Jessica

Basking in Fullness

It's early August, and the tomatoes are beginning to ripen on the vine. Juicy, thick, flavorful, fat tomatoes. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Salsa, gazpacho, bruschetta, pico de gallo, marinara--you name it, we are eating it this month.

These are times of plenty for those of us who cultivate. We have so much that we must give it away. We could not possibly eat all that we are blessed with, yet sometimes we humans find it difficult to give, especially when we are constantly reminded of the recession and job losses all around. We think we should hold on to all that hard earned fruit, money, stuff, whatever. We tell ourselves we are planning for the future. But, abundance exists, and only exists, in the here and now.

Aparigraha is Sanskrit for the yogic principle often translated as non-grasping, non-hoarding, unselfishness. The lesson of aparigraha applies to many aspects of our lives including the way we eat and drink. The tendency to binge eat and/or drink stems from a false belief about ourselves that we are lacking something, that we don't have everything we need, that we must look out for ourselves--because no one else will.

When we realize that something bigger than us is holding us, supporting us, we begin to trust that everything will be taken care of. We know that the One who turns the Earth for us also takes care of our plans.

So, how do we open ourselves to abundance and fulfillment? Gratitude. Wherever you are right now, recognize that abundance exists in your life. Give thanks for at least one thing wherever you are. Delight in a delicious meal, gaze at a picture of someone you love (or who loves you), stare at a flower, bask under the full moon. Then ask yourself, What is not perfect about this moment? Listen for the answer: Nothing.

Finding Ease Amid Effort

Did I say I was going to relax... let things come to me? Apparently taking it easy is sometimes easier said than done.

The garden is now a vegetable jungle and we can't get in there, but we trust our plants will overcome the weeds at this stage. We've been blessed with lettuce, spinach, raspberries, peas, cucumbers, and peppers so far. Tomatoes, beans, squash, and corn are coming along, too. (Pretty good, considering we started with a barren patch of dirt three years ago.)

As the harvest arrives and the season changes, it is a challenge to remain attentive, in the moment, in the garden with the fruits on the vine. Before I turn my attention to the next thing, I want to savor this moment -- just as it is. Whether it's ripe, or still green. Or even if it didn't work out at all and I was humbled by my efforts, as with the parsnips and marigolds this year.

This season, let us slow down and let go of expectations as we harvest the fruits of our labor. Let us bask in the sunshine and savor all of the flavors of summer.

The Fruits of Summer

Summer arrived just in time this year. The garden is hardy and absolutely thriving on temperatures ninety degrees and upward. Raspberries are beginning to ripen, and just this morning I spied the first zucchini and cucumber of the year! Now the garden is growing itself and the living is easy...

Starting a garden involves a lot of mindfulness work. You compost all year, plan and prepare your space, select seeds and keep them wet around the clock, plant your starts, weed till your joints ache, all while watching and tending to what is happening. Then, all of a sudden you realize your attentiveness has nurtured something that will sustain you.

Now you can lie back and enjoy the fruits of summer, right? Talk to me again in July-August and I may be humming a different tune. But for now, let us dwell in the perfection of the moment, before the canning mayhem ensues!

Lately I have found myself trying too hard during my Yoga Nidra practice. Yoga Nidra is a guided meditation of self-inquiry and enlightenment. Today, in the spirit of summer, I let myself take a little snooze during my practice... My teacher always says it is no problem to take a nap during the practice because awareness is always awake and aware. There is a part of us that is always tuned in to a deeper reality.

It was quite possibly, the best nap I've ever had. It may not have been the best meditation session I've ever experienced, but then again, I suppose it was just what I needed. My phone rang almost immediately upon waking. It was my old boss, calling to offer a little contract work! Just the thing I have been looking for, but what a nice and pleasant surprise that it came to me without my searching and pining for it.


Namaste,
Jessica

P.S. I promise to post pictures of the garden soon!

Precipitation Meditation

Upon returning from a very wet, very muddy camping trip last weekend, we were welcomed home by even more rain. Which is good. I love rain. And we can always use more precipitation in this high desert.

The flowers are astounding this year. Our Fox Glove, Lavender, Cat Mint, Mountain Sage and Echinacea are blooming like crazy (and attracting many pollinators, I might add). It means a lot to me to have cultivated those tiny starts into a fragrant flower garden that grows stronger and more beautiful each year.

My mom sent me the starts for 36 drought-tolerant perennials and herbs from our hometown nursery, Mountain Valley Growers. The nursery is right down the road from the five acres of lush beauty I grew up in. My step-dad used to work there. Last spring, I took Ben and Analise to visit my Grandma and my hometown, and I was struck by how much I had taken for granted.

The wildflowers. The rolling green hills with their granite protrusions. The smell of dirt. The long, steep, winding driveway. The tacky little mobile home. The junkyard. The country store. The top of Badger Lane. The weird old men. The isolation. I could go on forever...

It took me going back there 10 years later to realize I'm still country people at heart, and there ain't nothing wrong with that.

Going deep down to my roots and turning all that rich soil gave me the space to grow and blossom this summer. I realize that I love what has precipitated this lovely place in which I am now present.

Thanks, Ma.

Love,
Jessica

Welcoming the Unexpected Visitors

A poem sent to me by my yoga teacher. En-JOY!


This being human is a guest house,

every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all

even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of all its furniture.

Still treat each guest honorably,

he may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

-Rumi

After the Laundry, the Laundry

This spring our dryer knob broke off, forcing me to return to the old-fashioned, solar-powered clothes dryer. Tell you the truth, I am actually enjoying hanging each and every garment, towel and sheet out to dry on the clothesline. And then taking them down, one by one, and folding them before I even bring them inside. Hey, it solved my problem of dressing my family out of a huge pile on the living room floor 3 or 4 days a week. And I find that the mundane begins to take on a meditative quality.

The laundry is what initially inspired my exploration into the relationship between sustainable living and personal well-being. A book aptly titled, After the Ecstasy, the Laundry, has been suggested to me -- once by a good friend and once by my yoga nidra teacher. It's about the paradoxical journey of enlightenment; enlightenment not as an end goal, but simply an experience. Try to attach to it, and it quickly eludes you.

I have yet to read the book, but every time I hear the title, I say yeah, and after the laundry, the laundry! At times I feel the everyday beckoning of household chores - clearing the clutter, cooking the meals, weeding the garden, and of course, doing the laundry - is all too much. I hate maintenance. And yet, it simply must be done if we are to live sustainably.

Okay, so I have no answers, folks. But here is what I tell myself:

Some days the laundry is easy, even mind-clearing. Other days it's damned near impossible and it just ain't gonna happen. That's life -- it's made up of ebbs and flows. Just go with it. Try not to worry about the laundry getting done, or the enlightenment coming on. Instead trust that it will, in its own time.

Love,
Jess