Speaking of Spirit

For whatever reason, I have been under the misguided impression that today was Saturday.  Consequently, my usual early morning missive was not posted for you all.  But, perhaps this is what Spirit wanted after all.  Perhaps, I was meant to post late at night.   Today, the sun was out for the first time in over a week. So, thinking it was Saturday, I attacked the gardens, weeding and trimming to my heart's content. While I worked, I thanked God for my gardens, for my dear Roger working alongside me and for the gorgeous day, resplendent in shades of green and bird song.  When I finally stopped, it was late afternoon and we hadn't lunched, yet. So, after a quick clean up, we sat and ate, resting for a bit.  At close to 6 pm, I suddenly realized it was Sunday.  Yikes, I thought, I must be getting old! However, after talking to my granddaughter on Skype, (she and her Mom usually call me on Sunday evening) I realized that I had spent a lovel...

When life gets too much for me to deal with, I often retreat to my garden. Within the confines of arborvitae, lupine, rose, daylily and all the other perennials growing there, I find peace and strength.  One of my favorite actresses, Audrey Hepburn said, " To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow. " I had never thought of it that way, until I found myself out weeding and pruning this year. Being in the garden, tending to the needs of my flowers and plants, weeding, pruning and planting seedlings was all an act of great faith. Why bother to plant if tomorrow wasn't possible?  I believe tomorrow is possible and that tomorrow can be better than today, which is one of the wonderful things about hope. When we have hope, we dream of possibilities.  As Emily Dickinson wrote,   I dwell in Possibility –  A fairer House than Prose –  More numerous of Windows –  Superior – for Doors –  Of Chambers as the Cedars –  Impregnable ...

I have been taking an online course from Harvard Divinity School on World Religions.  This month, we have been studying Buddhism - its origins, but mostly its scriptures. In the process of learning the fundamentals of Buddhism, I stopped to do a bit of gardening.  The sun was out; the temperature was a lovely 78 degrees; and Rog and I were once again re-configuring our gardens. I made the decision to garden after several hours of reading about the various Buddhist forms (Pali and Mahayana) and their scriptures, which number in the thousands.  My brain was too full.  I needed a break, saw the plants waiting to be put in the garden, then thought, "I can plant one or two and go back to studying." One thing led to another as I moved around the flower bed.  I planted, weeded, transplanted, moved rocks, arranged garden ornaments - all in a sweet bliss of simply "being."  When I stood to survey what I had done, I realized that the sun was over the west...