Spring rains have watered many seeds in the garden. In fact, seeds I don’t recall planting have been sprouting happily everywhere. The Buddha which holds down the world in the rose garden enjoyed a bath in the rain last weekend on his birthday. This past weekend he enjoyed heavenly waters. In between times, the narcissus bloomed over his shoulder and the chives pretended to be kusa grass at his seat.
Family discussions have wound in and out of the topic of integrity and when to cut loose the deadwood that accumulates in one’s life path. Perhaps it’s because I’m exploring various writings and teachings on the fundamentals of Buddhist practice, the often painful evidence and consequences of desire seem to pop up everywhere. And desire for the deadwood is a bizarre but noticeable phenomenon lately.
It’s likely because these planks and plastics are familiar boarders in my life space. At one time some of them promised much and, over time, delivered little. Others were thrown out to help me stay afloat and now,waterlogged with their guilt generators, threaten to sink, hoping to take me with them. Yet others are new – the artificial plastics of ambition and greed which have begun to float together forming an emotional version of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.
I’d love to lay blame on others for this accreted mess of toxic relationships but really, I can’t. That’s the integrity part, taking responsibility for it. I may not have remembered planting those narcissus but there they are – irrefutable evidence that I took trowel to ground. There’s another aspect to this letting go: allowing for the possibility that what is deadwood to me may be very useful raft material for someone else. All the more reason to cut it loose, give it up, send it on its way.
May it shelter, save, soothe other beings in ways it once did for me. May it hold down whatever edge of the world it can.
Actually, beginingless karma got us into those relationships. Over and over, in my case. But we practice so that we can be aware of the impact of deadwood on us, so that minute by minute we can make careful choices. This made me think of my long long road out of such relationships. Not entirely. You have the family you were born into, sometimes it’s a case of changing your own stance with a particular distressing person, but choosing to keep them. Yes, practice will support you. Love your photograph.
Hello Jeanne! True. The blood line of all our ancestors run through us. I am noticing I have a hair-trigger response to issues of integrity and, gosh, I have not patience with those who manipulate events to serve themselves. I don’t think that’s a bad stance to have. However, I shall have to learn how to pivot on that stance without damaging the persons and aspirations in the immediate zone. 😉
More practice required!
At least you got narcissus. I only got dandelions. But, since I planted them, I suspect that I must have wanted their bright, sunny heads! Sobering, to think that I wanted “weeds.”
A weed is only that because it had the courage to show up outside the conceptual boundaries! 😉
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