seeds

"Plant some corn. It'll set you free."

-- Robert Mirabal, Taos Pueblo, on his latest CD

"I gotta get some new seeds!"

-- a wise friend in Santa Fe

Right now, in the sunny windows of my apartment, these things are growing: chard, chiles, Thai basil, Italian basil, oregano, thyme, fennel, parsley, mixed lettuces, spinach, kale, broccoli rabe, mizuma (a zigzaggy Japanese green). And, if the seeds are kind enough to sprout in November, cilantro from last summer in the Valley. Such luxury, to be able to eat in my own home, without paying or owing or asking anyone else.

Right now in the newly opened windows of my head, these things are growing: Stability. Simplicity. Presence. Patience. Containment. Security. Competence. Self-trust. Tuning in to growing processes. Being in agreement with Sun, Air, Water, and Timing. Knowing what gifts I have to offer, and giving them with awareness: no more, and no less.

The friend who made the second remark above was talking about her own search for stability. How for many years, she had only planted "groundcovers" with her choices, and then wondered why she never felt rooted. Me, I've been waiting all these years for land to grow a garden on. As well as for rootspace, in the psychological sense. In both cases, with such a tangle of sadness and hope. And am finding, in this moment, how easy it is to get free by putting down roots of any kind, however fine and fragile. And how the places those roots can go is not by any means confined to the smallness of their germinating space.