Stewarding Stories: Stacking Wood Samadhi

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Stewarding Stories: Stacking Wood Samadhi

A part of me feels foolish using the word samadhi to describe the immersive experience that I experienced stacking wood. Samadhi/Bliss is the considered by some to be the goal of all yoga - the blissful state reached once you have gone through all of the other seven states. Some consider there to be a hierarchy (a path) through from Yamas/Virtues, Niyamas/Internal observations, Asanas/Poses, Pranayama/Breath Control, Pratyahara/Withdrawal of senses, Dharana/Concentration, Dhyana/Meditation, all the way to reach Samadhi.

I feel this teleological view of Pantanjali’s discourses on consciousness is not true - rather than a road, it is a circle.

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Letter to My Children: Reharmonizing and Fishing

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Letter to My Children: Reharmonizing and Fishing

Bean sang out from her chair. “Today is Monday. Today is Monday. Monday string beans. All you hungry children..”

Dragon joined in for the chorus, “come and eat it up.”

Burbling out in unison, the tune resonated off the walls and windows.

“Wednesday, zzzooop. Tuesday, spaghetti. Monday, string beans.”

Oh my beloveds, you are literally reharmonizing yourselves back into being home. Hooray!!*

I joined in for the final verse. “All you hungry children, come and eat it UP!”

Our summer time apart (camp) this year has gifted many unforeseen ripples as we reintegrate ourselves as a foursome.

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Welcome Willett

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“So, wait, what is the bunny’s name again? She has been Lucky. Luckier. Lucky II.”

“Willett - it is a cross between willow and lettuce. She likes to eat willow and lettuce.”

“Am I spelling that with an “e” on the end to make it feminine or do we care?”

“We don’t care.”

Willett, the bunny born around Easter, has joined the scene and here is what we have learned so far.

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Letter to my Children: Cultivate Kairos Time

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Letter to my Children: Cultivate Kairos Time

Dearest beloveds,

The Ancient Greeks had two words for time: chronos and kairos. “Chronos is the ticking of the clock, the zombie steps of just getting on with life… Kairos means “the right moment.” - the opportune time. It stops the clocks.” (Thank you Jonny Thomson of Mini Philosophy for that succinct summary.)

Our modern culture thrives on chronological time. Constantly checking off commitments in a schedule of doings causes our awareness to skim along the surface of life. I highly recommend cultivating regular moments where you can slow to appreciate the magic of life.* It is only once once you pause, lower your shoulders, unclench your butt, take three breaths that the opportune time becomes apparent. Kairos resides outside of the rush.

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Stewarding Stories: Almond Fruit Arrives

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Stewarding Stories: Almond Fruit Arrives

About nine years ago we planted two almond trees Prunus Dulcis, they are close to the apples Malus and the peaches Prunus persica. The leaves of the almond trees and the peach trees are very similar.

It turns out, after years of waiting, the fruit of an almond tree is also very similar. Almonds look like an unripe small greenish peach. The skin of the fruit is fuzzy and soft.

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Letter to Bean: What is Porno?

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Letter to Bean: What is Porno?

Dearest Bean,

I was closing up the kitchen before heading down to brush my teeth and corral you and your brother into bed. Bending over the couch to turn off a light, I hear your voice from the kitchen.

“Mom, what is porno?”

What the FUCK?!

“Where did you learn that word?”

“It is right here - in the table of contents of your book.”

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Letter to Dragon: Drum ... drum drum ... drum drum

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Letter to Dragon: Drum ... drum drum ... drum drum

Dearest Dragon,

What a shining day it was! Making a hand drum with Mark Ressl of The Giving Trees in Rosendale has to be possibly one of the most true experiences of my 49 years on this planet. True as in killing chickens, eating a porcupine, giving birth, my God immersion experience, and sitting with Baba’s body after he passed - that level of true.

Really, Mom, you are saying this about a drum making workshop?

Yup, my dearest, I am.

Life comes from death. Which, in turn, makes more life. It is one big circle. It is all the same thing - just different forms.

The life of a drum comes from the death of an animal. Our life comes from the death of vegetables and animals that feed us. One day, in turn, our lives will nourish worms and plants. This is truth.

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Letter to my Children: Sidewalks and Errands

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Letter to my Children: Sidewalks and Errands

Dearest Beloveds,

Recently, we had 90 minutes of time between appointments.

Oh great, we can wander the sidewalks and get a treat. What a perfect summer afternoon.

It immediately became apparent that you two are not experienced in navigating sidewalks. We have been so spoiled with our wide expanse of gravel road walking - the dog chasing rabbits and birds across fields.

Sidewalk walking was jerks and dodges around bikes, parking meters, other humans, mailboxes, and even - each other.

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Stewardship Stories: What's in a name?

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Stewardship Stories: What's in a name?

This is the third title I have chosen to delineate posts involving land tending. In 2013 (wowza) I called the posts Farm Beginnings, because, that was the idea right? I was going to be a farmer - growing food and selling it to my community (or at least growing enough to feed ourselves for a full year as an experiment).

Then Bean was born, medical blah blah, Dragon was born, and more medical blah blah. In 2021, Farm Beginnings morphed into Homesteading Middles. To homestead felt less grandiose than to farm. The gingham term felt cozy and manageable. Homesteading felt good.

No longer. Now the word gives me the hives. Why, you may ask?

I was blind to the racist hypocrisy of our government denying formerly enslaved Americans their 40 acres while at the same time allocating 160 acres as part of the 1862 Homestead Act.

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Letter to the Dragon: Cultural Mirror Training

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Letter to the Dragon: Cultural Mirror Training

“Why don’t you wear your sister’s pink rain jacket until we get you a new one.”

“Mom! Nooo! I will bring my other too small one to school.”

Sigh. Is this because it is pink? Or because your sister has cooties?

“Okay.”

No reason to delve. He has to figure out this himself. Just be grateful for all of those years you were dressing him in whatever gave you pleasure.

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Letter to my Children: School Night Pleasure Reading Mea Culpa

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Letter to my Children: School Night Pleasure Reading Mea Culpa

Dearest Beloveds,

This is a mea culpa for our current nighttime routine - where I tell you to stop reading pleasure books and Turn off the light! Tomorrow morning is an early day! I am serious! No, you cannot have 5 more minutes! etc etc

The reason your mother is apologizing is because I get it. I totally understand the draw/need/desire/ache to turn the page/to see what happens/to visit longer in the fog of an alternative world. I get it, children.

I get it - which is why I apologize. Mea culpa AND I am going to keep talking about whether it is good choice to stay up late reading pleasure books on a school night (nope, not a good choice). Classic Both/And.

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