Despite what it may say, there are no herbs in this box! These are actually shamrocks that I saved from the dumpster at work. They love this box and have really flourished since moving to our new home. Shamrocks are really beautiful and have interesting cycles. When the sun goes down their kite-like leaves fold together and close for the night. In the morning, they open wide and bloom new tiny white flowers.
This box does have herbs growing. I made the poor decision of planting mint beside my rosemary here. As you can see, the mint is already exploding with growth. The rosemary will need to be transplanted soon to another, more private home.
Here is one of my three tomato plants. I believe this is the heirloom tomato plant. The other two are cherry tomatoes, and then your basic garden variety.
I find myself in an interesting space today. I'm trying to feel my way into the emotions, trying to open them up the way the sun opens those lucious green leaves of the shamrock by shining light directly on them. Yesterday when I sat in meditation I focused on loving-kindness (metta). I imagined the new child coming into the world for J and his wife M. I felt overwhelming joy and happiness and love for the both of them, for the incredible gift they are sharing together. It was a wonderful session because these thoughts and feelings towards J & M were quite unexpected and unplanned.
Last night as I lay awake waiting for Jason to come home I began to experience panic and fear pretty strongly. I don't know what overcame me. Logic told me that of course he was just working his normal closing hours, and likely doing inventory at the end of the night, which was why he wasn't home yet by 2am. But I felt paralyzed by fear anyway.
Today, I wonder if what I felt was something else. Was I tapping into another's emotions perhaps? Was J feeling fear and anxiety, perhaps even panic of the coming child with M? Were they at that moment in the throws and shadows of the unknown, mysterious, and painful labor process? I pondered this in meditation this morning, and experienced a totally different set of emotions than the previous day's joy. Instead, I became aware of gripping sadness. I stayed with the sadness and dwelt in it for a while, feeling its contours and asking with openness what it meant and from where it came. The more I opened to it the more I began to see its dynamism -- that sadness and pain is not a one-sided emotion. It has a shape with sides, and on its most opposite side there is love. Great love. And profound intimacy. It is the intimacy which bears a sharp quality, which cuts me deep with a two-sided blade of both love and sorrow. I do miss, long for, and ache over the often lack of intimacy in my life right now. I am good at ignoring it, and skilled at covering it over with laughter and humor. But when I am quiet and alone, it comes out and surrounds me like a wide, dark, and haunting room.
I find myself in an interesting space today. I'm trying to feel my way into the emotions, trying to open them up the way the sun opens those lucious green leaves of the shamrock by shining light directly on them. Yesterday when I sat in meditation I focused on loving-kindness (metta). I imagined the new child coming into the world for J and his wife M. I felt overwhelming joy and happiness and love for the both of them, for the incredible gift they are sharing together. It was a wonderful session because these thoughts and feelings towards J & M were quite unexpected and unplanned.
Last night as I lay awake waiting for Jason to come home I began to experience panic and fear pretty strongly. I don't know what overcame me. Logic told me that of course he was just working his normal closing hours, and likely doing inventory at the end of the night, which was why he wasn't home yet by 2am. But I felt paralyzed by fear anyway.
Today, I wonder if what I felt was something else. Was I tapping into another's emotions perhaps? Was J feeling fear and anxiety, perhaps even panic of the coming child with M? Were they at that moment in the throws and shadows of the unknown, mysterious, and painful labor process? I pondered this in meditation this morning, and experienced a totally different set of emotions than the previous day's joy. Instead, I became aware of gripping sadness. I stayed with the sadness and dwelt in it for a while, feeling its contours and asking with openness what it meant and from where it came. The more I opened to it the more I began to see its dynamism -- that sadness and pain is not a one-sided emotion. It has a shape with sides, and on its most opposite side there is love. Great love. And profound intimacy. It is the intimacy which bears a sharp quality, which cuts me deep with a two-sided blade of both love and sorrow. I do miss, long for, and ache over the often lack of intimacy in my life right now. I am good at ignoring it, and skilled at covering it over with laughter and humor. But when I am quiet and alone, it comes out and surrounds me like a wide, dark, and haunting room.
thank you for sharing what you encounter when you sit. sorry to hear about the sadness, and lack of intimacy. I know it is very important to you.
ReplyDeleteon a lighter note, those shamrocks are so beautiful. and I would love a cutting of that mint when I move. I have really been wanting some to plunk in my glass of water. I spy my fairy. : )