Ragbag: cultivating the land inside

 

'What we need is existential creativity...'

'There is a time for hope and there is a time for realism. But what is needed now is beyond hope and realism. This is a time when we ought to dedicate ourselves to bringing about the greatest shift in human consciousness and the way we live... It is now time for us to be the most creative we have ever been, the most far-sighted, the most practical, the most conscious and selfless. The stakes have never been, and will never be, higher... For we are on the verge of losing this most precious and beautiful of worlds, a miracle in all the universe, a home for the evolution of souls, a little paradise here in the richness of space, where we are meant to live and grow and be happy, but which we are day by day turning into a barren stone in space.' Ben Okri, The Guardian, 13.11.21


*

'My real work is getting to know, inside out, my home ground.'

'The soil is dark, the wind is red, and my dreams are snake green with long white roots. At the back of my mouth, way behind memory and longing, is the taste of the ground I garden every day, grit that lingers on my tongue and tells me who I am.

'Every particle of soil, every atom of earth, is alive with mystery and potential... 

'Every soil is a long winding story told in the voices of water and inhaled and exhaled air; of the stone-slow cycles of rock itself becoming soil; and in the voices of the swarming masses of micro-organisms feeding, breeding and dying on fertile dust, creating new life out of their own bodies made from exploded stone.

'After all these years of working the land, I am made of the soil and water of my home place. I have become these elements and they have become me.

'The best gardeners I know continue to find time both to sit still and to walk the margins of their land... When I slow down sufficiently to actually arrive in the garden, I see that everything around me is constantly changing... And when I really slow down, I see that garden and gardener are changing too, ripening and decaying with every breath.' Wendy Johnson, Zen Buddhist gardener

*

Cultivating the ground of metta

I have a Buddhist practice on which I sometimes focus during meditation. In true Buddhist spirit, it is both extremely hard and extremely simple.

'Metta' is loving-kindness meditation. Before you stick your fingers down your throat, it is neither New-Agey nor simplistic, though it seems both.

Allied to the Tibetan practice of tonglen, in which you breathe in another's suffering, it is a breathing out of love and kindness towards someone else.

You may incorporate phrases into the meditation, all the while holding that person in mind/heart. Currently, I say:

'May you [name], be free of suffering and sorrow.

May you be free of fear and anxiety.

May you be well. May you be safe. May you be happy.'

Of course it's not a magic cure-all. However, it can't hurt to wish goodwill towards others; and who knows how far such a vibe will travel. Its real benefit, though, is the softening of the heart of the meditator, and goodness knows we need that these days.

That's the easy bit. Now try turning that on yourself! This is my current practice:

'May I be free of opinions and judgement.

May I be free of suffering and sorrow.

May I be free of fear and anxiety.
May I be well. May I be safe. May I be happy.'

For many of us, especially those of us who were brought up Catholics, the first sentence is easy (we know how to flagellate ourselves: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa). And I am full of opinions and judgements, so I can admit/say that fairly readily (I'm not the only one in our family, but let's leave that on one side, at least in the moment of vowing to try to be less judgemental!).

But to receive our own love and care? To be happy? How hard we in the West find that, especially if we let the world in to break our hearts.

And it's oft-quoted in therapeutic circles: how can we truly love another if we don't know how to love ourselves?