The Garden of Eat'in
For the first time in days, it stopped raining. I was lucky; no flooding in my studio, and no major problems with the house or the area I live in. We live in a small city away from the Hudson River and most of the streams that overflow when it rains like this. Areas near the creeks did not fare so well.
I gave myself the gift of a massage this morning, a necessary gift to keep my aching muscles going. My afternoon luncheon with an old friend was cancelled; he was very sick and needed to pursue additional medical care. My auntie called me for two hours, telling me about her and her sister's urgent medical problems. I got a few more phone calls which essentially ate up a majority of the afternoon, but they were all necessary. Today I needed to be the strong friend or relative but it made me very very sad. Until now I have not given much thought to death and dying, but I have been haunted by the fact that my father died at an age I am now, that some people I love and cherish are needing some serious medical care. It is an ominus cloud, further enhanced by days of storms and shifting fronts...
After taking a deep breath from hours of phone work, I plunged myself into the tending of my organic garden. The lettuce thrives, the best I have had in years. So does the weeds, and I find it interesting that the two kinds of weeds that grow aside my lettuce are also edible --- in salads no less. Their names escape me, but the very weeds that I pulled were cherised in Victorian times as delicasies. I tend to the soil, I pull off flowering tops of herbs. I let the neighborhood cat into the main garden so that he could have a nibble of the catnip plant. He sauntered in, and just as gracefully sauntered out with a nod of appreciation.
There is something about the earth that heals and soothes. Larry told me that in a recent study of people who live to be 100, one of the common denominators was that they all lived on a farm. I think it is the zen-ness of giving love and nurturing the earth to provide life, and the the food we grow is the fruits of our labor; the gifts the earth has given us. WIth dirt under my nails I throw a kiss to the heavens and thank the universe for every moment and every morsel.
And, as they say, "every day above the ground is a good one."