Gasshō
On a recent Yearlong Retreat call we dipped into a conversation that feels, to me, like something we could all benefit from exploring in depth. The caller let us know about a recent diagnosis of an incurable physical condition and went on to describe living in a very windy part of the world and hating the wind. My first question, the kind so many have found so annoying over the years was, “Why do you stay there?” Fortunately, this was a seasoned practitioner who would welcome the exploration. Why indeed?
It's true that in Awareness Practice we’re discouraged from asking “why” questions simply because they tend to drag us up into conditioned mind where we’re meant to figure out the answer. Sometimes, however, they can assist us to go through some unexamined “reasons.” This is possible for us when we’ve learned the art of looking at conditioned mind rather than through it.
Why would I stay somewhere I’m unhappy? A job, a relationship, a family situation, a house or a town, an unhealthy and unfit body…. Why?
I’m hoping everyone reading this will stop to look. What’s your “staying here while unhappy” place? Now, sit quietly and let the “reasons” drop in. (You might want to jot them down as they have broad application.)
I will project that for most of us that list is the basis of a lot of the conversations in conditioned mind. I hear a complaint. I go over all the details of that one more time. Some alternatives occur to me. The voices start telling me why I can’t do that or that won’t work or it’s hopeless or I’m just not the kind of person who can change it and besides if I were the right spiritual person I’d just accept it and be happy. And I go on about my life a little more worn down and defeated.
Willing to continue the exploration? Sit quietly and let drop in one small move you could make to begin to change the circumstances in which you are unhappy. Commit to that move, watch closely what happens next, and call into Open Air to talk about what you’ve seen.
Move away from the wind I hate? I can’t do that! I love my house, all my friends are there, I wouldn’t know anyone, I’d be all alone, my partner wouldn’t want to move…. Understandable. Easy to see how we get talked into clinging to what we are not even if the price we pay for that clinging is a life of unhappiness.
I had a similar conversation with someone recently and somewhere out in the middle he said, “I feel as if I’m being the recipient of top-tier nagging.” Oh, the extreme urge to launch a new business, Top-Tier Nagging. Can you see the website? Yes!
Now I realize it would be a product for a niche market. I, of course, realize nagging is the highest form of love, but not everyone sees it that way. I suppose that’s because a lot of nagging doesn’t come from love, at least not love for the person being nagged!
But if it’s for the one being nagged it’s the best. “I love you exactly as you are and I will help you to be any way you want to be.” “I love you so much that I will stay focused on what’s important to you even when you forget.” “I love you so much that I will be here to assist you to remember, to support and give you strength when you feel you don’t have what it will take to come through for your self.”
After asking for years for someone to write an essential book I didn’t have time to write, Learning to Love Learning, Ashwini finally came through with a beautiful one. I offer this grand idea of Top-Tier Nagging to anyone who has time and energy for starting a business that would be both lucrative and of great assistance. When you hit the big time perhaps you’ll make Living Compassion your charity of choice?
In the meantime, let’s each consider becoming the owner/operator of that business in order to be in that kind of unconditional love-nagging for our self.
I bet you’ve been reading breathlessly in anticipation of the Farm news, especially the basils, right? Well, even as the epic journey continues, we delivered our first batch to the Food Bank.
It just occurred to me that this adventure in growing something is one of those “little moves” referenced earlier. All my life as a student of Zen I’ve known I should want to garden. Should love gardening. Nearer to God in a garden than anywhere else on earth and all that. Uh uh. Truly not interested. And, now? Near addiction. I’ve learned so much. I’ve done everything a person shouldn’t do, neglected so much a person should do. My version of Saint Paul. These few months later, a different person. Someone who can’t wait to plant basils again next year with all this transformation behind me.
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At the Farm it’s been a rugged spring. Final frost—we hope!—on May 31, wire worms, a heat wave bringing temps 30 degrees above normal, very little rain. Brian has said from the beginning that these first few years will be devoted to finding out what will grow here. I suppose that’s what’s going on for everyone trying to grow plants and trees anywhere. Global climate change is hitting us all.
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Here are some of our successes thus far.
 Cilantro gets a head start over lettuce and tomatoes. |
Lettuces are doing better in the greenhouse |
We are not just growing trees and food!
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 A swallow opts to build her nest in the rafters of the new car port. |
 A giant mushroom circle emerges. |
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Fortunately, the one thing not affected by temperatures is compost. Our suppliers are increasing, we’re engaged with WSU Extension and the Sequim Ecology Department to scale our operation. Everyone is committed to getting as much waste as possible out of the landfill and to turn it into compost for farmers. It’s exciting to see how much is being done and the level of passion people have for caring for the earth.
Part of the conversation has been about a method for getting the food scraps into smaller pieces for faster decomposition. Karen has found a machine that can turn 400 pounds of material an hour into small bits. It comes with a price tag of twelve thousand dollars which is a tiny fraction of what most of those types of machines sell for. We’re saving up for it and hoping there are funders out there who want to experiment with it as much as we do. We might miss standing there for hours cutting up rotting fruits and vegetables, but we’re willing to take the risk!
Almost all of the trees in the back forty have been mulched with the grass we’ve scythed from around them. Now we simply must tackle the thistle, which seems ready to challenge us for growing rights. Tenacious is the word that comes to mind for that prickly little critter.
 . Scything and raking grass |
 Creating a grass cocoon for each tree |
Oh, and lest I forget to sing her praises, JG (Jolly Green) continues to be a godsend. As the temperatures climb, being able to turn the compost with the pull of a lever under a shaded canopy never fails to illicit deep gratitude.
 JG unloads the raw inputs from the Food Bank that the team cuts up to go into the compost pile. |
 JG hauls grass to the compost pile |
 JG makes turning the compost pile easier |
 JG allows for larger piles of compost |
So much to be grateful for—even in the most challenging of times.
In gasshō,
ch
P.S. Since we are so fond of birds, we are spreading the news of this simple method to keep our feathered friends from flying into glass windows.