Ross Freake, Stan Chung and weeding my web site, Dharma practice

There is so much impacting in my life. Tasks, objects that I have collected, ambitions, old habits of drama that I wish were old habits of Dharma practice. After another visit to emergency and a night with pain killers dripping into my veins after four tries to insert the IV, I am again in recovery mode.

The residual scaring from my cancer surgery seems to be the cause. Just as it is the residual scarring from my childhood that leaves me feeling alone, embattled, frantic and constantly trying to control life. What a futile and pathetic waste of energy. The ability to begin with self and give oneself a strong physical basis for all action, is a spiritual practice.

I keep likening my body to a horse. “I want to get it under me,” I sob into the felted paper tray I am given in the hospital to vomit into for five hours, ” I want to ride with my body in ease.” But I keep returning to debilitating states of exhaustion and recovery.

As I was pruning back the stubborn thorn tree that I mistakenly thought was a good idea because it presented itself as a rose bush, I reflected on the process. I tried to dig it out but the roots were too wide and deep. Lacking the physical strength and the place to stand to leverage the amazingly lethal plant out of my garden, I have adapted the strategy of pruning. First I prune for others. I cut back the razor thorned branches where they will tear at strollers and senior citizens walking past my fence. Next I prune for the other roses. I cut back where a more benigh, less exotic rose bush was planted.

As it loses strength, I am now able to prune it back for me. Cutting the weakening branches in this third year of work, I can begin to see that there is space to plant the giant Lupines that I love. The deep blues and purples harken back to another, gentler time when tall stems of flowers stood in an English garden or Victorian settings. It is a time and a style that holds my heart.

So like the rose bush, I have to learn to be patient with myself and my habits. Congratulating myself for every minor pruning for every small change.

This morning, I was victorious. Insteady of cleaning the house and weeding the spam of 50 chances to gamble from the comments on my web site, I drug my screaming ego out the door and went for a walk. Only 30 minutes, I promised the ego that clung to the threshold of the doorway. I dug my fingers off of the molding and out I went.

The trees in the early morning light were luminous and transformed my spirit. I met a silly cat that followed my progress up “her” alley by sticking her head through the square holes in the lattice spaces one after another monitoring my walk. An old dog, blind in one eye was glad to see me… however he saw me.

Then when I got home, I pruned that gothic rose bush, weeded my web site and fed my blog.

I am so grateful that the media carries columns by Ross Freake and Stan Chung. These two spiritual practitioners provide the public with a gentle call. The chance to awaken and observe self is now in the popular media. It is a sign.

We need nurturance, pruning and the ability to weed out from our lives…well you know what is growing in your own garden. If you don’t, stop running and walk around for a look.Ego, repetition and frustration

Thesaurus entry: confusion

Pink lupine forest of flowersSigns that you are doing too much… read them! Yesterday I was hanging around the word magical in my mind. I was writing a column and just didn’t want to use magical but I was hanging around it. Thinking to myself, “Where is that thesaurus,” I reluctantly got up from my legless identity as a computer operator and searched. When I got the lovely fleshy pink, thick book in my hand, I returned to my bodiless state as a computer operator and opened the book. “Yes, yes here it is”, I said to myself. Awakening from my work induced, exhaution induced trance, I realized that I was looking UP the word thesaurus because I had programmed my head to look for a thesaurus. Later the same day, I tried to call my husband on the cell phone only to discover that I had the calculator in my hand and was punching in his phone number.

They say stress can lead to alzheimers. I need a sensory deprivation tank to float in… oh I guess that is in front of my computer.

I am very excited that the President of our neighbourhood association has invited in Stan Chung from Okanagan College who writes a column so beautifully about conscious and conscience driven urban design. It will be a great occasion for learning.

My show is coming up July 3 and getting all of the tags ready for nine years of art is daunting. I have brought everything into my studio and the chaotic environment has me twitching… not just facial but fascia.

Cameron will be recording for Andrew Smith next week and he thinks it might be a bass line for Corey Doak’s new CD. He always enjoys playing for Corey because he likes the music. Stay tuned.

One day I intend to put up a stellar array of links for everyone to enjoy. One day soon. If intentions were horses, I would never get moving. Afraid of horses.My climbing roses are maganificent this year

Monday, Bridge Opening Ceremony behind us.

The flowers provide a path


Always a point of reentry

the re try

the terminus of all that passed

We begin.

Co-ordinating calendars

flipping pages to see

what lives we have scheduled.

We try to reconcile our pace

like two oxen

neither pulling the other

off the road

too far by Friday.

Intermittent rain coming down today and the lupin are gloriously blocking the walk way up to the house. They create a gauntlet of beauty. I look from side to side and thank them as I descend from the steps. A floral yielding as we walk. Cameron finds it annoying, the journey through underbrush.

The Rotary Auction went well and both pieces sold so both the club and I made some money. Beautiful editorial in the paper by the associate Dean of Arts at Okanagan College, Stan Chung,  summarized a great deal of what I have been following as the implementation of Urban development to create livable spaces. It was excellent to see the ideas presented together and the tone is not one of chastisement or bitterness but rather factual and optimistic. Excellent.

The images of the throngs crushing together to cross the bridge raise in me a desire to continue to stay out of throngs. On the day the bridge opened, I was the first one to use a pitch fork and clear out a dandelion patch in my backyard. The flowers and plants watched in amazement. Birds overhead flew back and forth collecting the images on their retinas. There was a general sense of occasion and a swelling of the wind to applaud my efforts. I came in under anticipated time for completing the project and fully expect that the problem is now permanently solved. Henceforth, there will be no more dandelions in my backyard. Yeah!