My Dirt Garden - Happy to Be Alive
Sand Between Your Toes
I May Be Lazy, I Sit
There is a space that I do not own. Oh sure it is the land that we have been given to use. We pay for it and have a title to the land. I kind of go that American Indian way of non-ownership of land. It is really not ours. Please do not tell my wife that. But my boy says “Our home is great to borrow”. But anyhow I hear of men having “man caves”. I have a stool outside of my gardening space. Well that space is my man cave I reckon. It is what I call my dirt meditation garden. I do not plant there. I do not grow things there. Oh for sure I have tossed stones and shells there. Like as though they have fallen from the sky. Not of my design. There are American Indians and Asians that make like stone gardens that are designed. They are really cool like Totem Poles horizontal.
The order kind of makes me uneasy. In my mind space I do not really care for being orderly. Right now I am joined by some really cool “weeds”, they call them Mallow. They go about four months and can get a full five feet high. They grow so fast it is amazing. They are covering up my dirt. I cut them down and dig them up in most of our land. But that is “illegal” inside my 8 X 8 meditation garden. It just cannot happen in nature’s playground. Man’s order is not allowed in that space.
This morning was one hundred percent without even a slight breeze. So you sit very still and contemplate. And a plant will move. Really without any air motion. So you clear your mind and absorb and observe. The plants move as they grow. Now that is what I call a garden. So inspiring. Think thusly. The plant grows so fast, so how fast can I grow? How much love can I exude in a single moment? Maybe not of man’s making but maybe of God of love. Don’t look at me. I have interpretation of what I see. Those are not answers those are notations in my book of life. Not of me.
I don’t take tests though I am tested. But no teacher looks at me for answers. So no way us living students do, it would be crazy. “Grade someone”? So maybe we can look at disorder. Maybe chaos is appropriate. Not for the world of man but for the world of us.
Look Down and Not Back
Who Owns What Dirt?
A Nature of Love?
We are “tribal” or “clan” by nature. The romance of a “lone” wolf is basically fiction. Wolves hunt in packs. Can you imagine one cave man bringing down an Elk? Not likely guys and dolls. So our primal notions have us group together and not until the Golden Age of Greece did we even ponder individuality. In this day and age I like to shun commonality and revel in community. My writing of faith is not Marlene’s. My thoughts are influenced by the group mentality. But I do not live stream or have live TV. It interferes with my me.
About a decade ago my elder son was studying Philosophy at UC Santa Cruz. I have such a worthless, from the group, degree also. When we speak in theological and philosophical ways we do not take from the group we give to it. I use the word “me” instead of I. To me, “I” is the ego outward and “me” is lack thereof inward.
Back to my dirt garden. Oh my, what a day in the place of worship of those things not of man.
There is nothing better than hanging out quietly by your “self”. Ok that is not accurate. Getting hugs and spreading and sharing the love is better but besides that. It is easy to marvel at a rose bud. It is easy to grin at a newborn child. Good on us for doing so. But you have to for just three minutes of your life stroke a weed’s leaf. I know that sounds crazy but it takes you into the realm of love and not man’s plans. I am a fruit freak and quite strangely for me a meat freak. I love ‘em. Now don’t get me wrong you may find me eating a fresh onion like an apple. A just pulled up carrot requires laying down in the land where it was pulled from and gazing at stars, of course the stars are not visible in the day. I wonder about that as I see them in my shut eyes. I used to do transcendental meditation and visualization meditation. I gave them up for the here and now concept. I have never been anywhere that was not where I was supposed to be. I no longer do candle flames or a special place. I do my space. I have learned to love where I am. Take my word for it in a Nogales jail that takes some effort.
So let us talk about Rob. Going backwards we jumped out of perfectly good plane and Rob sent us across the border to Mexico. Jackass! We illegally entered into not just Mexico but the “Military Air Space”. He screamed YES! As Federal’s focused on us. They did this with full automatic weapons of one hundred were pointed our way. If you do not have getting head butted with a rifle butt just go ahead leave it off your bucket list. What were we? An invasion force?
Lay in the dirt somewhere and just look up. It is kind of dirty, it is either cold or hot. I don’t know, it is just dirt and just sky. Being in dirt is kind of different. I like it. I have trouble sleeping on it as it kind of hurts old bones. But what genius said hurt is bad? Oh yes, no one. I wonder why no great philosopher ever said sleeping in the dirt is bad for you. Or even a doctor with sense. What is going on?
Sister And Brother Learning Nature
Living In The Dirt Ain't Half Bad
I Reckon I Missed My Share - Or Maybe Not!
Tonight I had to close one eye and squint the other to see the face of the man on the moon. What a great face. Not handsome and not pretty. Just what we imagine it to be.
Now here something to put on a bucket list guaranteed. Sit on a horse out there somewhere and gaze at the moon. Or probably just as good is doing it with your dog. Another story is Snowshoes, Dog sleds, Cross country skies and repelling. Moonlight is so cool.
So what is the meaning of having a dirt garden? I really do wonder. I was thinking in my garden about how many people stoop down into dirt scoop it up and luxuriate in the texture of it’s smell. I would give that as a gift but most would not appreciate it I think. Beach dirt on a river is different than beach dirt on an ocean beach. Belize dirt smells different than Cambodian. City dirt has an oily feel and smell. Dirt at 12 thousand feet has like an ozone electricity.
Religious folks tell me that from dirt we come and to the dirt we shall return. My boy was 5 when we first slept in the dirt. I think maybe dirt is earth. Maybe to be in touch with earth we need to try to love dirt. My boy gave me three more shells from his sister for my dirt garden.
So often we look up when just in thought we should look down.