I live in the city - isolated behind trees and trellis.
I grow perennials -daisies and irises, lilies and roses.
That blue plant is spiderwort.
When I was younger, raising children, working and going, I dreamed of being a little old lady in the woods. When I was very young I lived in the country, baking bread and planning to birth repeatedly.
I got over that.
But I kept cooking and sewing and learning.
I am a novice gardener.
Some things grow well. I plant survivors.
Some plants leave after a spell. It used to bother me, but then, I have friends that do the same thing.
I live in a city of transients.
This morning I was listening to Wayne Dyer talk about japa mediation. I have been praying and affirming for my right and perfect work situation. I have been living free of attachment to the source. Or so I thought.
Cleaning. Ahh-ing. Om-ing. Being. Waiting. Patiently. Trusting.
I decided that since I am planning to go back to work I had better get the stuff done that I have been ignoring. I was not as hot today. I took down the curtains. I dusted, vacuumed and mopped. When I stepped out the shake the rug I noticed the mail had already arrived.
It was a thin envelope. Not what I was expecting. Still, I imagined it might hold hope.
Reading the form letter, I nearly collapsed in sadness. I was heart-broken. Bad news usually comes quickly, like two days. It has been two weeks so I was sure I had the job. I cried.
I did not call my favorite support person because she will remind me that I am living the dream. That my life is prosperous. That I am blessed. She will say I already have everything I need and fortune smiles on me. She will remind me to keep believing. That stops the tears.
I called my Z and boo-hooed for a bit. Then, I too remember that I am seeking my right and perfect work situation. Since I did not get this job at this time, it is not it. No point in crying about not getting something that was not for me.
As the day unfolded I realized I was attached to this job as the source of my income. How had that lie creeped into my thinking? My life is living proof of greater possibilities than relying on any single source of abundance. I love my home. I am grateful for the blessing to live and dance and play. The day may come when I am called away. Until then, I bless each moment living being here free.
This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival; a joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and attend them all. Even if they're a crowd of sorrows... still, treat each guest honourable. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. (Rumi)