like a cleansing, sleep. laid down so heavy. woke up so light. with the renewed desire to accept and to love in spite of my resentments. if i feed them with continued reminders of their origins, they grow. if i deny them those very nutrients, they wither. i want them to wither. 

the old ground fostered a wonderful growing season. plants that inspired and sustained me for some time. but, annuals...they came and they went, feeding rightfully on the soil's nutrients. some self-seeded and reminders of that old garden will come back, but in a different capacity.  and without the weedy resentments that grew alongside them.

for months, i've been working hard to lay a new layer of fertile soil. and i've been planting new seeds and taking care of these new seeds. focusing now on the new growth instead of lamenting the death of last season's life. accepting, welcoming, loving. now, remain on that path. remember how precious life is and how important it is to support new growth and change in each one of us. believing anything is possible...it is.

'find peace in this.'
-current mantra

cool, gray day. in berkeley, purchased unbleached muslin for homemade tea bags.  talked to a sweet brazilian grandmother about silk string. had my banjo screw replaced and my ukulele complimented. headed back to oakland and the garden. checked on the cookies i'd left in the rickety greenhouse for my fellow gardeners; they'd taken them...and that made me feel warm inside. i started some seeds and snipped some herbs to dry for the tea bags. it was a slow day. heavy. after a night of sadness, the day was heavy with the weight of dissolution and divestment. a small hope i'd been keeping alive, like a fragile cutting of healthy life from a decaying plant, killed. smothered out. by fear and by unwelcome honesty. today, its funeral. in its eulogy, i said: 'i let this hope go knowing that  i tried my hardest to keep it alive. i watered it with forgiveness, acceptance, patience, compassion, truth. but i could not save that small hope that something could be salvaged from a meaningful period of intimacy...something looking like a friendship.' and i let it go with tear in my eye, rain drizzling from the sky...

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 entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

-Rumi.