While I wasn’t paying attention, my rosemary plant had babies. Twins.
Through yet another of nature’s miracles, rosemary is one of many plants that can propagate by a process known as layering, wherein the stems of an existing and established plant are bent down until they are able to root themselves in the soil, thus creating a separate root system that can be transplanted and exist on its own.
From one scrawny rosemary plant that was largely neglected in 2011 until I dug it up and brought it indoors for the winter came two new plants.
It is a reminder of just how resilient nature can be and that is a very good thing.
I never really paid much attention to Oprah’s OWN Network until a few weeks ago when I saw advertisements for some interviews that seemed interesting. OWN isn’t part of my television package regularly but for the second time in a few months my programming provider has offered a free preview for the month. Quite by accident last night, I noticed that in a new show called “Oprah’s Next Chapter” she was visiting with actor Sean Penn in Haiti.
Sean Penn. Spicoli. The former Mr. Madonna. In Haiti. What? I switched over and began watching and wasn’t prepared for where it took me.
A few days after the tremendous earthquakes that killed hundreds of thousands and displaced more than a million and a half in Haiti, Sean Penn was there. Just as he had been there in New Orleans, famously navigating the floodwaters in a small boat and carrying people to safety. Only this time it is different. Way different.
I watched the interview and with every question realized just how similar I am to Penn, at least when it comes to the way we think and see life and the world around us.
Along with Diana Jenkins, Penn co-founded a relief organization in Haiti called J/P HRO (Jenkins-Penn Haitian Relief Organization) that is on the ground making a difference in the lives of thousands right now, and I didn’t even know he was there. The org operates a tent city that is home to 20,000 displaced Haitians as they work to rebuild and repair. There is a school for grades 1-6. A clinic that has treated over 100,000. Delivered over a thousand babies.
He’s not living in a beautiful hotel room or rented condo. He sleeps on a twin bed in a room no larger than a walk-in closet in a 3-bedroom leased house that is home to as many as 50 relief workers at a time – all the time.
Sean Penn gives me hope, and hope is a good thing.
32 31* years and 364 days ago I had two sisters. Okay, they were sisters by marriage, so technically I should refer to them by the clunky and altogether hurtful “step-sisters” but even though my mother and their father ended their marriage years ago, I had two sisters.
Our life was far from perfect and at times it was downright crap, but there were precious and amazing moments like the one captured in this photo when the three of us were hamming it up in our ultra-cool Scooby Doo pool. The memory is a funny thing, really. So many years have passed but I can still remember the day and the moment in this photo so clearly, which is unusual because much of my childhood has been long forgotten out of self-defense.
33 32* years ago on this day the world lost my youngest sister Amy in a drowning accident at our babysitter’s home in south Florida. For the longest time I thought I wasn’t supposed to mourn her because she wasn’t my real sister. No, it doesn’t make sense, but neither does much of my childhood.
I am happy to say that today I remember my real sister Amy. I cry real tears and feel real loss that she was taken from all of us and that the world would never come to know the incredible woman she would have no doubt become.
Is it odd that I am counting such profound sadness as a good thing? Only if you don’t understand that without profound sadness you will never fully appreciate profound happiness.
I miss you Amy. No matter what anyone says, you are my real sister.
Love, Your real brother
Amended to add: The gravestone incorrectly lists Amy’s death year as 1979.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, I awoke in the wee hours of morning with my mind racing over the dozens of items still on my to-do list. I couldn’t shake it after 45 minutes of trying and crawled out of my warm bed at 3:00 am.
The house is so quiet. The only sounds of the moment are my fingers clicking away at the keyboard and the occasional mouse-like squeak coming from my computer’s CPU. In this quiet stillness I can hear my own thoughts without interruption and follow a tidbit of wisdom of a long-forgotten origin that I was given when I was first learning to meditate: let it flow, then let it go.
When you are new to meditation, your mind will not shut up. It just waits for you to sit down, get comfortable and take that first deep breath before it slaps you repeatedly with questions and commentary so clear that you’d swear it was audible. The advice was simple enough, so I gave it a try.
Let it flow. Instead of trying to stop my mind from racing, I allow the thoughts to come. Just like cork in a bottle, it will only hold as long as the pressure behind it doesn’t get too strong. The more I try to stop random thoughts, the stronger they get and the harder they push.
Let it go. Here’s the real trick; Once you let the thoughts flow by allowing them to come, you simply let them go by not dwelling on them. Don’t pause, don’t ruminate, just continue and let the thought go as quickly as it came. The pressure of rushing water lessens quickly when it is allowed to flow freely.
I am one of the oddest people I know. I prefer a simple life and I don’t require or desire much in the way of things. In every aspect of my life I try to find ways to spend less money and to improve the quality of my life without increasing the expenses along with it.
As a lifelong gardener I have a need to have rich, nutrient-dense soil in which to grow the food I eat. While many will spend hundreds of dollars on soil amendments (and I have as well, truth be told), I strive to build soil and soil amendments with compost using everything at my disposal. From grass clippings to coffee and tea grounds, dryer lint to shredded paper, I am always adding to the compost piles and containers with the full knowledge that every item added back to the soil here at home is something that will not find its way to the local landfill where it will not break down naturally as nature intended.
In the next few days I will begin collecting horse manure from the farm where my horse Bravo lives. That manure will be aged, composted and added to the raised bed and soil-building areas of the land I call home and that is a good thing.
I never really paid much attention to Oprah’s OWN Network until a few weeks ago when I saw advertisements for some interviews that seemed interesting. OWN isn’t part of my television package regularly but for the second time in a few months my programming provider has offered a free preview for the month. Quite by accident last night, I noticed that in a new show called “Oprah’s Next Chapter” she was visiting with actor Sean Penn in Haiti.
