Month: April 2020

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Order of operations

I spent a lot of time in the dirt in my 20s.

When we lived in a townhome, I had an extensive container garden. Having grown up in rural Warren County, gardening as a city dweller might was a new challenge. 

Then, in our first house, I planted everything everywhere I could. I dug by hand, laid pavers, planted herbs and tubers and perennials and annuals and vegetables and shrubs. (I don’t think I ever planted a tree.) I followed whatever attracted my attention and worked intuitively learning as I went along. Bliss. 

When we moved to our current home, I was mothering four little girls and working to build my creative practice into a business. I gave up my time in the dirt. But it was this season in my 30s when I learned to work smarter and think about how to do things most efficiently. Things in general. Batching processes, combining like tasks, planning the week, and so on. I was responsible for a lot, so it was necessary. I didn’t have the luxury of impulse or aimless wandering like I did when I was younger. Or, at least, that’s what I thought. 

So as I’m entering my 50s later this year, I would hope that I can (by now) integrate these different ways of working. I really want to start working on the fence. But I know that I need to stone The Pocket first  because I can’t really predict the footprint of the stone surface and retaining wall there until it’s happening. And the fence line needs to follow that footprint. And…

Since I can’t stone The Pocket until I know how much red clay I’m working with from the pathways, I need to finish those first. And I need more rocks. Lots more rocks. 

Maybe I can build a prototype fence post for the corner between the two little staircases on the studio porch? Just to see if my cedar-stack idea will work?

Maybe. But not until after you go get some more rocks. 

First things first. 

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One more day of digging? Sounds good

I decided to ride up to Cedar Cross with Jimmy this morning, unplanned.

After yesterday’s dig, I was hopeful that one more day of the same could get the meditation space ready to receive the red clay that I would be excavating from the paths. After all, that was the impetus, or one of them, for the digging. I was having dirt management problems over on the pathway.

I was right. Four loads yesterday, and four loads today. I ended the day with library rods in place to mark the lower retaining wall that will be needed, and perhaps a small elevated section that could be used as a low lotus resting place, or a footrest perhaps. (Probably not the footrest thing.)

We have a retreatant this week who’s often ready to talk. She lingers and shares. She has a broad smile, and she loves Reba. I’ll call her J, and I learned that her retreat experience opened her, and that she has much new life in store.

Interacting with others at a distance of six feet or more is an interesting experience. I notice that I’m seeing the entire person, reading body language and overall energy more than facial expressions or vocal inflection. I’m uncertain whether this creates a deeper understanding or not.

J called the meditation space a “pocket.”  Ding! That’s it. Now this meditation space has a name, at least for me. The Pocket. Meditation is like being in God’s pocket, safe and along for the ride.

https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1IIqGZKNIZa3BWoQsx9LnUNLJ_QbZJ86o