September 2019 – VedaMinn

I had a nasty bout of insomnia (of my own making?) last night. I found myself still in front of the television at 11 p.m. before I flipped the switch and headed to bed. This is a death knell for my normally good sleep patterns. I generally need to be in bed before 10 p.m. or my brain decides to turn on at just the wrong time. This, Ayurveda teaches me, is totally to be expected. It’s a reflection of existence. Our pita (fire) elements begin to stoke around 11 a.m. and get in the way of sleep triggers (they are more appropriately inducing deep sleep and dream states). Thus, bedtime between 9 and 10:00 p.m. is a natural way to develop healthy sleep patterns.

The times associated with the doshas indicate when they are most active. Pita, the fire element, was most active as I was trying to induce sleep. My efforts to fall asleep were fruitless due, in part, to the active fire element doing what is supposed to do in my system.

I knew this, but was compelled to complete the show I was watching, a Ken Burns documentary about the history of Country Music in the U.S. It is a subject about which I’m very interested and Ken Burns’ work has a strange way of sucking me into its “we are all in this together” vibe. Was my behavior worth it, given the rather dazed state I’m experiencing now? My answer is, maybe, just this once, but “let’s not make this a habit.”

My Experience

As I ruminated and ruminated and meditated and ruminated and ruminated and read and tossed and turned and read some more and wandered around the house and ruminated and ruminated and ruminated, read some more, meditated some more, castigated myself, ruminated, ruminated, forced myself to not look at the clock, listened to the crickets, wondered if they were birds, ruminated, ruminated, etc (you know the drill) a strange thing happened. I fell asleep for a few hours.

This experience disrupted my routine and left me feeling less than stellar today. But, I’m ok, have the freedom to add a few hours of sleep to the morning, and am just trying to go with the flow.

While meditating this morning (considerably later than usual) I noticed an interesting phenomenon. I felt a level of clarity I hadn’t felt for awhile. It was like all the ruminating had purged my mind of a lot of detritus. I was able to gain a glimpse of the sense of being an empty vessel. Much of what I had been ruminating over and rehearsing in my mind through the night just wasn’t there, at least for that moment,. In its place was a sense of clarity, like a calm pool of water.

Clarity comes to me like a gentle pool of rippled water. Unfortunately, clarity never seems to be intrusively “in my face.”

Naming It

So, I felt the need to write my experience down, name it, to make it real. Writing is one tool I use to remember these sort of experiences. Without some method of codifying these experiences my mind fills up quickly and these moments of clarity dissolve into the pool.

Writing a blog is an interesting experience. While I have wanted to post every week, that just hasn’t been possible. It isn’t lack of inspiration (I don’t think writing is necessarily about “inspiration”, at least not exclusively). It isn’t about “will” (whatever that is). It isn’t necessarily about the “doing” either…many days I write, just not things I want to share. Today, I think, my decision to blog involves naming clarity.

A state of clarity is when my mind is clear of all the things that clutter it up, worry, anxiety, ego, striving, expectation, etc (you know this drill too). In these rare moments of clarity, I am able to use my mind as a vessel for whatever is out there to be shared.

Sometimes the Preamble to Clarity is Arduous

I appreciate the clarity, although, I must say, I often prefer to reach this level of clarity using easier methods. Insomnia is a pretty unpleasant experience. The problem, as I see it, is that those easier methods aren’t always apparent to me. Fortunately these days the unpleasantness is usually short lived. I have a non-pharmaceutical plan for achieving sleep bliss tonight. This plan has worked in the past and I think it will tonight.

This difficult night followed by bright clarity makes me feel like I’ve taken a another brief foray into the underworld. This time to purge myself of my chatter-box demons. Like so many mythic characters before me, maybe I’m now part of a special club. I’m surprised though; I never expected Ken Burns would be the one to open these gates for me. Goes to show, you never can tell.

Monthly Gathering Next Thursday

I invite you to join me next week, Thurs. September 26 at 7 p.m. for a monthly community gathering at St. Peder’s church, 4600 E 42nd St, Minneapolis, MN 55406 in South Minneapolis’ Longfellow neighborhood. Cost (suggested donation) is $25 per session. I suspect, much of what I’ve been blogging about will emerge in the sessions. But, again, you never can tell. Learn more at Healing-ground.com/events or email me at info@healing-ground.com. It would be helpful if you could let me know if you will be attending but feel free to just drop in. I certainly will not be turning anyone away!

You Never Can Tell

https://youtu.be/Qv8gwgNG5R8

You Never Can Tell. Tru That! Emmy Lou Harris’ version of this classic is joyful and carefree. She hasn’t appeared in the Ken Burns documentary yet but I’m sure she will when we get to the 1970s. I first saw and heard her do this number in 1975 when she was new on the scene. I was totally blown away by her singing, her musicianship, and her incredibly fine band. And, she even has her name on her guitar strap!

https://youtu.be/qjdYBzzWsew

Emmy Lou is still performing, she’s still cool, still has her name on her guitar strap, and I’m still listening.

My block has been getting a haircut this week. Chain saws and cherry picker trucks are making their way up and down the block, pruning out branches from gangly trees. Trucks, chain saws, cherry pickers, rakes, and new faces are breaking the quiet calm of the neighborhood. There is nothing like the sound of a chainsaw in the morning to get me up and about.

The changing of the season is reflected in the tree trimming. — The tree trimmer machinery was on the block preparing the trees for winter.

Autumn is the season for this sort of activity. Many trees are best pruned in the cooler weather, and it feels natural to see piles of branches on the ground, waiting for pickup. This is, after all, the time of year when things start to fall down. Apples are being picked, tomatoes are making their last hurrah, and generally mother nature is shedding herself of her fruit. So, the tree trimming seems like a natural extension of seasonal rhythms.

Shifting inward as the season changes

Preparing for winter is a thoughtful affair. I’m looking at a long stretch of pulling closer to myself, with introspection, and quiet, but I find it a little confusing that even though winter feels like a more inward time, I am driven to be more productive and focused on outside work during winter than I do other seasons. I wonder if that is because there seems to be little else to do in our dark, cold winter; or maybe it is the natural order of things. Maybe, as the flora sits buried under the mulch during the cold months, more is going on than meets the eye.

The garden is looking a little tired from all the summer activity. The little prairie on the alley, which flourished this summer, is in full bloom but looking a little faded and worn out. I wonder about what is going on down there beneath the soil line to enable this little miracle to reappear in the spring and flourish throughout the summer, despite the brutal winter conditions to which it is subjected.

The seasonal changes are reflected in the parairie garden — The look of the prairie in the spring is very different at summer’s end. The pink puff balls on the right are native Prairie Onions. In the foreground the Prairie Sage has sprawled majestically. The Milkweed in the background is barely visible in the spring picture. The Pussy Toes, the fuzzy flowers on the left, are barely visible by summers end.

The echinacea, which astonished me this year by pretty much taking over its garden space (after a very sparse year the previous summer), is ready for a break. What happened over the winter that enabled a few lonely echinacea plants to turn into an echinacea jungle?

Ehinacea reflects seasonal changes. — The Ehinacea is pretty worn out come summer’s end.

Finding the natural order

These days the world in general is also looking faded and worn out, as we teeter on the edge of the abyss. I find myself hoping, against hope, that things are happening under the soil line, out of my line of sight, that are creating the conditions for our world to somehow make it through what has been very long winter. What I do know is that under the soil line each microorganism, mineral, and animal has a purpose and a function that contributes to spring regeneration. This understanding motivates me to pay attention to the seasonal changes and prompts me to try to put myself in a position to contribute to the natural order of things.

So now I’m preparing and storing food for the winter and planning my fall cleanses. I’m planning my fall plantings and reviewing schedules for winter activities. I’m setting intentions and making commitments. If I wasn’t blogging, Facebooking, and Instagramming these activities, much of what I’d be doing would be below the soil line but I guess social media has changed all that.

Garlic is harvested and cleaned with change of the season. — Garlic went into the ground last fall, was harvested in mid July, cured, then cleaned and trimmed a few days ago.

The bustle of the tree pruning is slowing and the block looks nice and tidy, is a little bit brighter, and is a lot quieter. The trees look lighter and happier and more sun is penetrating the canopy. They appear ready to do their underground winter work.

I wonder if our world couldn’t use a little pruning. Maybe it’s time to pull out our big inner machinery and clear out the energetic forces that are blocking the sunlight so we can begin the real work of allowing our planet to thrive. And we can only do that if we each do our own work below the soil line. If we do that, then maybe there is hope.

Community Gathering

I will be hosting a monthly gathering at St. Peder’s church, 4600 E 42nd St, Minneapolis, MN 55406 in South Minneapolis’ Longfellow neighborhood. Cost is $25 per session. If you are seeking support for thriving, and fully contributing to our broken world, consider attending. You can learn more at Healing-ground.com/

This cool video captures the essence of how I imagine life below the soil line: full of activity, imagination, curiosity, and enlightenment. Thanks to Dan Rather for locating and publishing this video via FaceBook (@thedanrather).