The winds have stilled themselves to mere breeze. The sky is cloudless. My head doesn't hurt. Not ... it hurts less or in ways that can be comfortably contained. My head. doesn't. hurt. Plus it was my rotating weekly day without yoga practice so I was able to get dressed and go right outside. I noticed light everywhere - specifically as sixth chakra food. I approached this light-food awareness with my camera as well as an open heart. I'm going to start asking myself to stand in the garden to consciously receive light in my third eye and then let it filter down, like dripping light in the form of the sky's 'headwaters' throughout the chakras below. To treat light through reception, and mirroring in photos, the same way I treat water on petals and leaves. In terms of what I notice and how/what I seek to capture.
It will take awhile. This is a new way of mind-eye-think for me.
first thing out the door, I saw the first cowslip flower stalks feeding. i have loved this flower since early childhood. Every time I see its glowing presence I feel my child-heart expand. And along the same vein
I can't even with the astonishing SPIRIT of this specific plant. I still have things to express. So I guess we'll all stay tuned.
here's last year's crown for comparison.
The plant in a larger context within the sanctuary's corridor of light. June 7th of last year. It will be interesting to see what happens this year with a far larger crown in this plant's mysterious third season. Foxgloves! They've returned on their own after many years Away.
Also I've cleared a lot more of the original bed's overgrown jungles sphere since the photo was taken. J's slated to move two of the too-much stella d'oro daylilies. They are so ubiquitous around here. These crowns need to be divided and relocated. J. likes this work. Soil. Shovel. Roots. I hope to divide and relocate half of the siberian iris as well. Last year the show stopping magnitude was a very hoarse whisper for help. We put down cardboard for a year to create space for them against the retaining wall. It will mean forking up runners of goldenrod and blackberries first. So we'll see how much of everything gets done.
one of two Angelica Archangelica plants that remain on the property. At the old place I had dozens upon dozens. I will talk about them later, I hope, but this morning I mainly asked this plant why. Why, I asked. About your unusual behavior? Why.
because it is important.
I transplanted s/he 4 or 5 years ago in the very early spring. S/he lives in the evolving sanctuary. My visionary hope has always been that flower heads would form and seeds would scatter to establish a Presence. This morning the plant spontaneously told me we are already here. And I realized, yes. Two of these plants will always BE two of these plants. Two whole plants. And I wasn't seeing it that way. Instead I've been continuing to see through the lens of over the top experiences in my former garden. And ongoing grower's wisdom that this type of Angelica takes three years to flower, tops. And then I realized so much more as I crouched with the plant and let it whisper to me.
I was spoiled throughout the entire mother phase of my life with an abundance of this medicine spirit's energy and light dispersing healing capabilities. And then this morning I remembered: Once upon a time, I had a single Angelica plant. It lived in one of the tiniest herb gardens I've ever seen, but when it was all I had, it was a wondrous universe. As I'm writing my sixth chakra's sending me powerful memories of the garden's third growing season. I was pregnant. And the pennyroyal I planted that first year beneath the Angelica was everywhere. I'd invited a non-pregnant friend without growing space to come and harvest freely for herself. For anyone she knew.
The specific internalized images I have show the two of us kneeling on our heels while she harvested. Everywhere she looked, she saw the abundant runners. The more she SAW the more pennyroyal revealed itself. And she sat stunned with the amazing life force of this shallow rooted plant.
I saw it every day and had become accepting. Also - I named the garden Little Findhorn, so I kind of expected I'd also called Light to do its magical work as well. But even I was gobstruck by the time two more summers arrived and my son and I spent a lot of our daytime hours outside. By then the Pennyroyal had conquered the lawn in innumerable places. When the plants bloomed the air hummed with all types of bees.
It was 1987. I would never have imagined that in the time since, I would gradually come to look at that age-frame
as innocent times.
I started Calendula under lights this year. Am also going to start sunflowers and zinnias. I know it isn't advised, but I want the actual flowers and vibrant plants. Too many different insects and birds and shrews, etc. nibble at the seedlings but will seek shelter rather than nourishment from larger plants. I have SEEN this over and over in other people's yards - and the year I tried it as an experiment (our second growing season here) I had abundant flower crops. So we'll see. I'm also sowing seeds here and there so I can figure out where they fare the best out in the field garden. The 'Light-Grown 24' will go in containers on the deck and pool skirt, plus I'll save several to scatter in the evolving sanctuary.
Cinnamon and large leaf basil. I'll be transplanting everything to larger growing spaces with regular potting soil. After years of trial and error I've found a seed starting mix I like. Part of what I most enjoy is that everything sprouts and grows more reliably to the point of the plants' second set of true leaves. Last year - because I was super jacked-up about a gazillion things - I was equally hyper-achieving in what I grew and to what capacity. This year has been more about establishing a down-shifted perspective.
instead of asking what I want to grow
I'm asking what I know I can reasonably handle.
it's one of life's more obvious wisdom nuggets that I've taken quite awhile to absorb even partially. Today I sat spellbound to realize a lot of people - including a few, I'm guessing, who read this blog - live their entire life based upon this sensible & sustaining pattern of thought.
i'm like: write it down, and put it on post-it's everywhere, before I forget what i just realized. Massive shift potential though.
Last week I grabbed a Maple Y-fork and stuck it through the garden fence so we'd all stay clear that the maple essences had been co-created successfully. I stood there and thought how I might decorate it. How I might feel it's important to honor the red Maple as a guardian spirit of Place. Don't know what any of that means yet.
While I was out with the cat, I noticed there were a number of freshly opened gooseberry flowers. So after we came back inside I returned with a bowl, an heirloom garnet carbuncle that's spent a few decades gaining energetic intelligence. I don't know how else to put it. Also, as I was gathering the flowers, I was guided to include a few specific buds, as well as flowers that had been fertilized and one very tiny goosberry fruit.
This is an elixir I use externally or for land healing purposes. It's one of the original four Land Healing elixirs I made back in '05. At the time I felt like doing as much was stepping over a cliff into unknown territory but it's actually what helped me define my priorities. I wanted to learn how to listen deeply enough to hear secrets.
Not create a Name of some kind, let alone a buzz or a business.
and one of the first things I learned was that in order to listen deeply you have to be able to trust your inner narrator. Once you figure that out, it's likely you've reached a universal frequency that will allow you to trust other forms of more externalized narration. One of the other primary things that I learned is that plants communicate in a calibrated manner. The less you ask from them - by way of the common expectation that you're opening to them primarily so that you can in turn 'have' from them, whatever you've pre-deteremined you need/seek, the more they will reveal over time. Their time. and every plant has a different accelerated projection rate and range.
That's why it was so easy for me to change the play not once but twice this morning when I prepared and set out the elixir bowl. Firstly, the original recipe for this particular elixir had called for ruby matrix. which I know I had during the first chakra month. Then I remembered how I 'replaced' that gooseberry matrix essence last year with a very weaksauce version of itself, due to how few gooseberry flowers remained fresh that day. When I held the wet ruby matrix in my hand I received the message: next time use Foxy Grandpa's carbuncle.