Acceptance

I belong here.

I really do.

Belong amongst the garden and flowers. Belong in the orchard - around the rock and grass - am a resident of this place - new but welcomed, called in even - and beginning to be rooted to this land - the first arriving of the full seasonal year.

My work is inner and out - tending my inner garden with much the same interest and regularity as this burgeoning spring garden. A little bit of work each day.

A potter of attentiveness, a sprig of inquiry, a spadeful of feeling it all.

Tis true that I came after Kath, the great gardener - not to repeat her exploits - not even to just maintain them - but to bring an interior poetic sensibility to everything that’s unfolding here - myself, my life as nature - as a turning season - as a work in process.

When I can consider my life thus, I can be content with what is. The quiet days, the not busyness - the unfolding of the rightness of this season. There is nowhere else to go, nothing else to do - no other path to be on but this one. And that is utterly show stopping to realise.

Just be here now as that psychedelic teacher Ramdas said.

Be. Here. Now.

Thank you, I’m sorry, please forgive me, I love you.

Tonight I take my heart in hand, stand upon his mother ground - Mother country - as my friend Blue says - and feel and release. Feel, and release in love.