It was warm enough to do last night’s meditation outside, which is always nice. The picture shows my torches at the quarters as viewed through the crepe myrtle trees in the back yard. I’ll let you decide if the “orbs” are dust specks or something more…
I hadn’t even gotten through my opening meditation when I was bombarded with thoughts on planting, the first being that planting is a lot of work. When I was growing up my father planted gardens that bordered on small-scale farming: corn, beans, potatoes, squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, okra, and anything else he could think of. It was a lot of hot, dirty, sweaty work – I hated it. I love Nature, but I’ll never be able to romanticize it. Real planting is a lot of work – why should we expect our metaphorical, spiritual planting to be any different?
The third thought was that planning is an act of faith. You make the choice, you do the work, but then you have to trust that the seeds will sprout and the plants will grow to maturity. You can water and weed and fertilize (and you’d better), but the rest is out of your control. Do your part and trust that Nature, the Goddess, or the Universe will do the rest.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to apply all this, but that was what I got.
Tonight’s meditation will be on the balance between light and dark.