So many things done in the course of the day can stand in for meditation! Practically anything, done slowly and deliberately, can offer that peace that comes from living in the moment. At least those were my thoughts this morning, as I walked through the routines of the day. Breathe in, feel yourself go limp, clear your head of clutter.
(Does anyone besides me love that look of a drying autumn garden?)
For me, clutter is the mortal enemy -- hardest to tame in the head, even harder to tame in your house. I want to remove all useless stuff (in the head and in the house), I want the joy of an empty space and yes, an empty head, but it's slow going. Still, I know where I'm heading: toward that world free of debris, free of unnecessary shreds of unpleasant memories and unused acquisitions.
I enjoyed, therefore, this small article this morning in the NYTimes (and by the way, when I share articles from the Times, they are free for you to read). I mean, it's really small in that it offers no new perspective. It touches on ground we have walked on and certainly on a topic I've written about here, on Ocean. Still, it was a sweet reminder of how little it takes to feel the exquisite beauty of a simple pleasure.
Right after I feed the animals, Ed and I hop on our bikes for a loop ride on our favorite roads and trails. Yes, before breakfast. If the day is going to be hot, we need to do our ride early.
And of course, breakfast is just wonderful when it follows, rather than precedes an exertion.
I resist the temptation to sit and read for the rest of the morning. Instead, I make my way back to the new meadow and study its contents.
The sweet photo notwithstanding, it's not exactly a success story. Ed did till the land before I seeded it, but the grasses took over and the flowers, though pretty around the edges, are for the most part lost in the thicket of the tall grass stems. I'd recently learned that you can sow seeds of Yellow Rattle onto the soil where you will be establishing a meadow. This plant suppresses invasive grasses and allows flowers to take hold. I had mowed down a good chunk of the meadow and I put in some Yellow Rattle seeds this morning. I know I did a sloppy job of it, since the soil was not totally clear of grasses, but I've decided that meadows here are always going to be a work in progress. Slowly, they get better, but it's never going to be a splendid field of just wildflowers. We have too many weeds and aggressive plants waiting to pounce onto any available surface. To create stronger meadows, we'd have to spot treat these invasives, and that seems like an overreach merely to support a meadow.
(meanwhile, Ed is harvesting tomatoes... so many tomatoes!!)
I retreat to the farmhouse in time for lunch, noting with satisfaction that my watch rings are getting mighty close to closing.
You would not think that something like a watch could motivate you to do well in life. I mean, it's just a watch! And yet, last night it prompted me to close my final ring by walking briskly 9 more minutes (Ed heard me pacing back and forth upstairs before going to sleep). And today I could not help but think that maybe I should work harder to close all rings earlier so that I dont have to pace the bedroom at the end of the day. As if it mattered! We are strange creatures, easily influenced by... anything! Even an inanimate watch...
In the afternoon, I pick up a friend and we drive over to a birthday party. In the park. It was slated to be a hot hot day today, but it's mercifully cloudy and so the temps are moderating in the upper 80sF (a tad over 30C). Ed stays behind and waters our nut trees out back. They're little and they need help.
And now comes that beautiful early fall evening. The sun is lower now and our walls are dappled with light and the imprint of dancing maple leaves. It is, simply put, a heavenly time of the day, of the year.
With love...
