I am on solitary vacay till tonight. Behind the scenes and between my ears, I endured drama, fear and worry of the family nature. This calls for shopping, massage and alone time therapy. Much needed and appreciated. I know I will feel relaxed, released and renewed. Sometimes you have to empty to receive and pamper in order to give.
Off to Palm Springs – 
Where nature survives in an oasis as displayed in a desert,
Where peculiar occurrences and behaviors are ordinary,
Where rocks and landscape tell a story simply crafted with minimalism,
And where peak experiences are marked by vast grandness, spiritually grounding the human onlooker.
My struggle with Self.
Getting self to gym, getting self to stay away from sugar, saying positive things to self, leaving self reminders of kindness, keeping self away from opinionating out loud, alleviating self from drama, protecting self from snake pits, congratulating self when due (not being stingy to self with compliments), arranging and making quiet time with self, gently admonishing self when appropriate, and producing creative outlets for self.
The only safeguard self has is my connection to my Divine Source, thinking about and doing for others and listening to those beings that love or care for me.
I am going to be ok because thankfully I am not in charge of the Universe.
Today held much emotion for me. I am detoxing from the Holidays, I haven’t eaten any animal product in eight days (and I intend to continue on a day to day basis to be vegan=writing it makes me accountable now), I gave up diet soda seven days ago, every action my teens take towards independence feels like a loss, it’s difficult to let go and I sometimes feel like I am just background noise or in a Twilight Zone episode of my own craziness.
I am grateful I shared today with others, because I am not alone.
Two moms commiserated, my trainer listened and sympathized and my husband agreed it wasn’t easy.
With this advice, understanding and help, I was able to process and have the intellectual knowledge go from my brain to my heart and come to a place of not only acceptance, but also of a pleasant awareness of the now, this moment, here.
And then a rainbow blossomed inside of me !
Sometimes the things worthy of saying or doing are the hardest and sometimes from the toughest times, the most beautiful memories shine forth.
The very first thing I afforded myself and realized after renouncing my career and raising children, which I never could have accomplished without my husband assuming all weekend kid duties – including softball, soccer and just nourishing them physically as well as emotionally on his only two days off wherein on countless occasions he scooped them off to work to their delight although half-asleep, was become a UC Cooperative Extension Master Gardener. I always read the gardening section but I believe my husband was the one who pointed out there was an opportunity if you sent in an application and qualified (a short essay on your interest in gardening). My entrance exam was accepted, my husband and family committed to supporting me and I dove into the world above, at and below planet earth.
We were the second class of OC UC Master Gardeners (not to be confused with Cal State Master Gardeners out of Fullerton we were constantly reminded) around twenty-five eager amateur gardeners of various levels, all walks of life and all ages. We met routinely at OC fairgrounds, hence the two pictures I took this past summer, here. Our only payment due was to volunteer in some capacity for at least fifty hours every year. I enjoyed working in the classroom with a second grade teacher as my internship while taking the course – preparing and sowing and nurturing a school garden, reading The Lorax and other environmental aware and Earth-friendly children’s books and sundry scientific/botanical experiments such as germinating with the adorable, inquisitive and highly energetic second graders. Later, after I graduated, I volunteered on the Hotline – researching and answering diverse queries.
I understood finally now what my father used to philosophically mutter in a way that seemed sublime. “The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know.”
Every Saturday and Sunday, for months, we took field trips. Our tome was a giant six-inch binder that resembled Webster’s Dictionary at the library you see on a podium because of its heft. This was before and while it all progressed and became documented on the Internet, 1997-9. Every week we pre-read the necessary chapters we would explore on the weekend. Basically, it was a crash, intensive course in horticulture. I loved it!
We grafted, we bonded and we questioned. We visited nurseries of every type not available to the public – Native Californian, fruit, Cal Poly Pomona and their poinsettia industry, the succulent world and dozens more. We were entertained and informed by premier entomologists, arborists and specialists of every agricultural aspect. I felt fortunate to live and study the gifts and the drama of cultivation and earth/insect/botanical biology in the largest and most diverse agricultural state in the nation. My Latin improved as a side benefit.
Needless to say, this was an invaluable experience and inspired me beyond measure.
p.s. on my walk today with a dear friend, she pointed to a plant and asked its name. “Nasturtiums, ” I replied. “The flower,” as I showed her the orange yellow deep-throated specimen, “is edible, quite peppery!” and I added. “Great in salads” and I further had to announce when she look astonished and said, “Really?” – “Other edible everyday flowers include the pansy and rose petal, as long as you grow them organically.”
NASTURTIUM from my garden today – delicious, chopped up and sprinkled over my salad tonight! Yum! Looks like the dilophosaurus that spit on Newman in Jurassic Park?
I wonder if my love affair with herbs, flowers and vegetable gardens brought me into the kitchen or vice versa.
One of the few books I brought back from New York when I moved to California (via a pit stop in North Carolina for ten months) was my Herb book.
My very first book purchase in CA was the Sunset Western Garden Reference Guide.
My love of plants can be traced back all the way to my parent’s first home in a small suburb of Buenos Aires, Argentina. In pictures, I am proudly displayed on all fours, probably four or five months old, next to a dwarfed colorful Pinocchio. This ceramic statue is placed strategically in my mom’s treasured tiny first garden of hopes and dreams.
Trees, flowers, shrubs and gardens in general have become a familiar backdrop to most photographs of myself up to this day. Close ups of flowers also tend to be the majority of my litany of pictures. A trip to the local botanical, historical, indigenous, private or public garden has long been a destination wherever I am.
You can learn a lot about the climate and culture of a place by their local customs, foods and gardens. Gardens have been used to bury art and family treasures when invaded by the enemy, they have been used countless times in movies, in art and can teach you math, science, design and the list goes on. They are an expression of your wealth (think Versailles), your hope (Victory gardens) and your creativity (Disneyland comes to mind). They can be small, out or indoors and potted.
When I lived in my first apartment, hanging plants hung from WWII ceilings. The care and nurturing of those first plants reflected the care and nurturing I did or did not give myself. Plants can be revealing as well as healing.
Gardens, plants, fauna, flora, landscapes and the variety of Earth’s beauty intrigue, fascinate the soul and give us sustenance.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?
This first week of January 2013, M prepared and I planted our winter crops.
For the most part, we moved to this old house back in ’97 because of the amount of land it sat on and how it privately and discreetly lay between other homes, nestled and caressed by an outline of pittosporums around its perimeter. Heavy thinning soon took place.
Our first home, an award winning designed Eichler model, had slowly been shrinking as our brood grew. I invaded M’s coveted back lawn for a vegetable garden and the children’s swing set and play area, reduced it further. We had rounded brick flowerbeds and sprinklers installed, front and back. I had personally plotted and inserted over 600 bulbs into the ground. Tasty producing peach and apricot trees dotted the front side lawn and edged the pool. Our atrium dripped and shot up in levels of green; hanging spider, ivy and pelargoniums from the rafters and begonias, caladiums, elephant ears and S.African species of exotic bromeliads rose from the ground edging the inner Saltillo tile patio with a gigantic three tiered ceramic fountain filled with incredibly stalwart goldfish the children had won at various spring and summer fairs.
That was the home where we put in a lot of sweat equity, a fixer upper. It was our labor of love for two years till we brought each of our babies home to it. Our hippie wine/hang out room with two comfy papoose chairs and a macramé hanging coffee table became the red, white and black Westie puppies’ nursery. As chic as an Eichler built home is for a young couple, its walls of glass became a concern every time one of the kids ran into them with their heads while crawling, their walkers while learning to cruise around and their big wheel trikes when nearing their terrible two’s.
Plus, we just wanted them to roam free, barefoot and loose in a secure large yard. We both ascribe to the Jean Jacques Rousseau philosophy of child rearing as well as a strong belief in formal academia. So we searched, dropped our search, saved more money and researched, clipped coupons and miraculously found this parcel.
But, I digress.
In the era of reality TV where everyone looks so fake and phony and unreal to me – it was a breath of much needed fresh air to go to the movies today, unexpectedly, with my husband and watch Silver Linings Playbook. I am not going to give it away, but I identified with every character a little bit, loved the story, loved the writing, directing, acting and tone of the movie. You may not feel the same way but I highly recommend it for its authentic dramatization. Considering it was a work of fiction, it resembled genuine family interaction, quirky, creative, sensitive people and represented it honestly. I am not going to say another word for fear of revealing something or coloring your viewing of it.
Freedom is a state of mind and the truth will set you free.
Can anything be more pure than a perfumed white freesia?
Or as delicate yet strongly scented as winter pink jasmine?
Last time I flew, I wrote down how I felt. The reality is that in the middle of the turmoil, I always feel like this could be the end. What I am learning in my class for anxiety ridden people is that feelings are just feelings and they are not necessarily true. What? Yup. They are just feelings. And what may be crazy scary to me – might not be the same for you – but it’s still valid in our own heads. Fear + Worry = Anxiety. Something I didn’t realize. I had anxiety about going to the anxiety class. The first tool we are given is to breathe. That’s the first instruction. I have tons of fear and worry. I am an anxious person. I thought maybe I could write through my fear, understand it better. So when I started to feel scared, I drew out my notebook and pen and started to scribble like crazy. I breathed in and out, long and slow, deliberate breaths and my written words were:
“OMG! TURBULENCE! going through clouds. (Inject the Serenity Prayer here). Blessed be the day for me and mine. For someone who dislikes travel, I have certainly done a lot of it. Amazingly. I’m in God’s hands. No one can take away from me what God wants me to have. (Three pages reflecting on writing). Geez NOT bumpy like this. Perhaps I should have brought more writing paper. Starting our descent. Maybe my best defense to my own fear, my healing comes in the form of expressing myself in words-love, love, love to delve and edit and refine.”
“I drive up to the mountains all the time. Going through these clouds is horrible. I remember arriving in Tahoe and the plane was all over the place and finally dipped all of a sudden, just dropped into the basin of the airport. Cabo San Lucas too. I hear/feel the wheels – oy vey (yiddish for OMG) – another time flying into the storm in NY with lightening. OMG! This is shaking – God help me! I hear my family – all is well. Blessed be the day. Smile. All will be well. I need to remember to have faith. God wants me well. All will be well. I have so much work left to do? don’t I? I imagine. Watch. Live. Write. Share. Give joy. I am here to give and share in joyful moments with J & M (I was on my way to Seattle).”
” Why didn’t I get something spiritual to read not this dumb National Enquirer? The crypto-quote was fun anyways. I can write my way through this. My arm is SHAKING! No wonder my shoulder hurts. Geez. We have been flying completely in a cloud now for half and hour. Really? Remember the Andes? Flying through snow and between peaks? And I survived that. OMG. Pure cloud and grey and darkish. No wonder we live in sunny OC. 73% of the time it is sunny. Granted I get tired of it – but this not perceptible darkness is scary. The cabin has darkness. We are descending and I still don’t see any land or lights.”
“Ah, finally, the Pacific – cold, dreary Seattle. I see it now – trees look like they have color – why are we tipping to the right? Yes, the trees are very colorful. Snow. I swear snow. Drops off my window, yes, snowflakes on my window. Geez. May God bless us all. My family. Everyone I encounter – an awakening, so beautiful – parks – cone shaped trees – snowflakes – wet – lots of pine trees and colors, yellow brown…….we are about to land……and……touchdown and then the G-FORCE BRAKING!!!!! The sensation that I will fall out of my seat! It’s so dark and it’s 10:50am. Cloudy. Rainy. Dark. Wet.”
“Thank you G. Thank you. I have tons of relief and anticipation to see my family. I didn’t start fearing flying till I was four months pregnant with M – the man I am now going to see today, in his element.”
The return trip was slightly easier but the Serenity Prayer was employed nonetheless – frequently. I recall my late friend Leticia. Her fear was driving on bridges and overpasses. Like me, she knew she still had to do it. But her fear was real to her. She loved to fly. She didn’t die driving on a bridge or in a plane. She battled and lost to cancer, even though I don’t know anyone who was more positive, ate healthy every day of her life and had amazing coping skills. So, you never know.
My friend, P always says, we live between our ears. It’s a bad neighborhood sometimes. And it is up to me to etch a sketch it clean, shake it all up, and think good, positive thoughts. Imagine my happy place, breathe. Substitute scary with life-affirming beliefs. Breathe.
Today is a great day to plant my little pots of winter vegetables and herbs. The winds and rains have died down and the sun is smiling on my newly cleaned up garden beds. Thanks to my husband, the old strawberry, basil, tomato, eggplant, pepper, blackberry and zinnia plants are tossed in today’s garbage bins and a freshly laid drip irrigation system is in place. Now, all I have to do is sow some wildflower seeds and plant my newly acquired cilantro, rhubarb, broccoli, cauliflower, spinach, Brussels sprouts, kale and sweet pea newborn seedlings into the heavily composted soil. I also need to get some bulbs I picked up dug into the front lawn flower beds.
Gardening is a renewing and hopeful activity. It’s a great time of year for cleaning up debris and yanking out old tired roots/habits and weeds. Pruning, cutting back and preparing the soil/soul for regrowth. Designing, imagining and sowing seeds/thoughts and young plants/ideas and projects. The beginning of the year, is a perfect time to hope for an incredible increase in yield and harvest, patiently watch, accept and nurture crops/deeds and be one with nature. I am in the garden where I lose time and I nourish my soul via my senses and bones. I have a plaque with the following quote at the entry of my vegetable garden steps.
The kiss of the sun for pardon.
The song of the birds for mirth.
You are nearer God’s heart in a garden,
Than anywhere else on earth.
