Garden Gems

There’s a real love affair going on in the schoolyard garden, and I can tell I’m not the only one. I don’t know if it’s spring, or our new flower garden, or our new ‘farmer’s market’ but what was once a Friday afternoon gig is now an everyday affair.

I can’t keep them away.

Which is fine with me, because in a garden, polyamory is permitted. In fact, the more the merrier!

Okay, okay, I don’t mean to sexualize the schoolyard garden. At all. Cross pollination and the bees take care of that. But the garden herself does magnetize all of us to her. The kids, the parents, the overworked and underpaid nannies who come to sit next to a pot of blooming rosemary.

In the garden, we seem to have developed different ‘departments.’ I have not organized any of this. At all. They’ve self divided and pollinated (Mendel would be proud) and seem to run their own show. There are the girls who only like to sell at the farm stand, the kids who love to package the wares to sell, the girls who like to pick posies and tie them into each other’s hair (and mine – which I love), the boys who like to pummel an old dead tree branch with garden tools as though their life depended on it (I let them do this when the other teachers aren’t looking), the ones who like to water, the worm researches, the harvesters, the eaters and this awesome kid named Alex who is pretty much one of the coolest kids ever because his favorite thing to do is clean up and organize all the old crap that I leave till ‘tomorrow’. Thanks Alex!

I cannot begin to express the joy that this entire little operation brings. And it runs itself. That’s the amazing thing to observe. With so much emphasis placed by adults on ‘real world’ rules, regulations, management, marketing, sales and production, I say come on down for an hour and just observe these kids. They are natural organizers, business people, stewards of the land.

I am not teaching this. I just open the space for it to happen.

They have a natural curiosity for caretaking and an inherent understanding of the basic business principals of barter and exchange. This is the farm stand’s third week in ‘production’ and we have made over a hundred dollars…selling lettuce leaves and lemons, people. With that money I purchased a new plum tree, paint for the benches and jasmine bushes (three) to cover the hideous chain link fence. And I still have a few bucks burning a hole in my pocket.

A couple of weeks ago a dad in a business suit came by to check things out. He offered his ‘suggestion’ to divide the garden crew kids into teams to ‘inspire them to work harder.’ I had to work hard not to drop an expletive on him. Are you kidding? They have divided themselves and are as inspired, hard working and productive a group as I’ve ever seen…naturally. This, by the way was the same guy who took oranges and herbs from our little farm table, but didn’t have any money on him. Really? I used it as an opportunity to teach the kids about the ‘honor system.’ It took him two weeks to pay me back the $3 he owed the kids, and yesterday, when he sheepishly took a $5 bill from his wallet, I took it from him and thanked him very much for his $2 donation to the garden.

Yes, it takes all kinds. That’s what makes life, and the garden such an interesting place.

Nowhere else I’d rather be.

Fun & Free

A dear friend of mine has a wonderful philosophy that most things in life really worth doing, pursuing or participating in are Fun & Free.

I couldn’t agree more.

This morning that meant a gorgeous hike (with her!) in the Santa Monica mountains. This evening it meant preparing and savoring the most delicious homemade organic soup from vegetables I earned in ‘trade’ from working at an urban farm here in Los Angeles.

Fun & Free is beautiful, fulfilling, adventurous, spontaneous, unpredictable, wild, sweet and delicious!

May your holidays be BRIGHT with the things that really matter.

Clovers & Canyons

When there are times like this where the entire country is in mourning and certain things simply are incomprehensible and people turn their astonishment into anger, and then into antagonism, all I can really do is get back into nature. This morning it was a gorgeous canyon hike with my son.

It didn’t plan it that way. Up at 6am I had no idea how the day would unfold, but a few hours later, we found ourselves high above the sea in one of the mountains on the Malibu/Ventura border. The drive out was indescribable. One I’ve done hundreds of times, but today in particular was stunning. Even more than usual.

The ocean looked almost iridescent purple, the pale clouds swirled themselves into the powder sky and the Channel Islands were in such clear view it looked like you could reach out and touch them.

Just yesterday I was thinking that I was ready to start making love rattles again, but had no more pieces of found wood for the handles. I wasn’t thinking about this today – just focusing on the beauty – when we turned a corner to find the mother ship of sticks and branches – enough wood for more rattles than someone should ever be allowed to make in one lifetime.

Perfect.

We spent quite a bit of time selecting our specimens and my son was impressed at how I broke the wood with my bare hands. He’s still easy to impress and still totally innocent. He doesn’t really understand what guns are and certainly not murder or tragedy. He’s been deliberately shielded, having never watched violent movies or the news. And today up in that canyon, I held that moment with him for as long as possible. Insanely grateful to just be with him, heartbroken for what’s happened in Connecticut and selfishly happy that my son is still blissfully ignorant of the darkness and horrors in a world that he is going to have to grow up in.

We gathered our sticks, examined a patch of clovers on the trail and headed back to a warm home with books on the shelf, food in the fridge and each other. We spent the evening painting pictures and playing games. A simpler day could not have been had, this heart heavy with gratitude.

Granny Gardens

I really have a thing for old ladies…and their gardens. No, not in a weird fetish/worship sort of way. But I’m definitely drawn to them and their powers – I always have been.

Legal senior citizens don’t cut it; I’m talking about the at least over 80 crowd. These are the women who emit some sort of sage wisdom, of knowing, of “I’m too old to put up with your bullshit pheromones (and I see right through you!) so take it somewhere else, Mister.”

I’d like to be more like that, but in my 37-year-old body.

The cool ones wear outlandish outfits, speak their minds with no censorship whatsoever and always have a way of making you feel like it’s going to be okay…because, one way or another, it always is.

And they know this for sure, because they’ve gone through it all more times then they can count. Like a garden, or the seasons, or the cycles of life, they’ve been there, done that and are only stronger for it. Their eyesight fades, physical strength dwindles, ‘conventional’ beauty dissipates, but their inner power only gets stronger.

Take a minute and really look in their eyes when you speak to them – you can’t help but see it.

Their ‘life’s too short’ attitude is often best expressed in the garden, where anything goes. We’ve all seen it: plastic pink flamingoes, wind chimes, wind socks, empty old boxes and crates that once seemed so useful. These are not your Martha Stewart gardens – they are the natural habitats of the ladies who are well past caring what anyone else says or thinks. They are refreshing, at times ridiculous…but always real.

A true gift and delight for the senses…with much wisdom contained in their ‘unconventional’ beauty…both in the granny and in the garden!

last photo courtesy Instagranny

Arturo

For some of us, we are not content to simply be content.

We are in a near constant state of having to know, pushing further, needing to understand and touching some place beyond the physical world. We regularly question why we are here, if we are fulfilling our ‘purpose,’ and if we are making a ‘difference’ on the grand scale in which we perceive true Life exists.

But the reality is that too much ‘seeking’ can be a slippery slope.

Because living with this constant questioning can be both a blessing (because it expands you well beyond your limits) and a curse (because answers only come in bits and pieces, and I don’t think we are actually meant to fully understand it all until it’s all over – darn).

Enter Arturo…

I was at very busy outdoor shopping center here in Los Angeles this morning. People get a little nuts here in L.A. when it comes to Monday morning and parking lots and getting coffee. This parking area is small to begin with and to boot, half the lot was closed off for re-paving. It was a shit storm waiting to happen.

And then there was Arturo.

Dressed in crisp khakis and a pressed white button-down dress shirt, he was poised and ready to handle the near chaotic parking situation with grace, ease and a smile. I watched his compact form move through every potential parking catastrophe with efficiency and confidence. He got me and my SUV into a narrow space – no problem. He got the lost tour bus through – no problem. He even got the slow as molasses old lady in the oversized white Cadillac into her space – no problem.

And when I arrived back at my car an hour later, he helped me reverse with a few clear and directed flicks of his wrist – like a conductor at the L.A. Phil, but with no fame, notoriety or applause. He even told me to go out a different exit – it would be faster for me. I said thank you with a smile, and he politely smiled back and gave me a thumbs up and a wave.

Something came over me with this experience.

Arturo is making people’s lives easier, better and more peaceful. Even for just 30 seconds, but he’s still doing it. And, I could be totally wrong, but I don’t think he’s standing there contemplating his ‘role in the cosmos.’ He’s just taking care of business one car at a time. He’s making a difference. Maybe he’s not ‘curing cancer’ as they say, but he is making people’s live better, smoother and less stressed out. I think that has immense value, whether you work at some fancy job, or ‘just’ as a parking lot attendant.

Yes, sometimes us ‘seekers’ seek too big. We forget that Life happens here on earth, in small manageable bits, in ways we can understand. It happens at the Farmers’ Market at Third and Fairfax on a Monday morning in a crazy parking lot, with a kind and confident ‘guide’ such as Arturo who will likely never know I wrote about him, and who I will likely never see again.

But Arturo made an impression on me and reminded me that in my pursuit of ‘the big picture’ I forget that sometimes what we need more than anything else – in a particular moment – is a smile, a thumbs up and kind stranger keeping things calm in an otherwise crazy L.A. parking lot. We just need a moment of grace and kindness in our day.

Thanks Arturo.

Shedding not Suffering

I experienced something so startling today, something that in my tiny grain-of-sand sized life felt so important and supportive that I couldn’t resist sharing. A smooth pearl grew from the rough grain…and slowly, one by one, a strand is growing from my tender heart.

It seems that many of us are moving through huge changes right now – shedding, releasing, evolving. All kinds of people in all walks of life. Walk out your front door, it will find you.

In this process there are moments of euphoria and moments of intense pain, and then it occurred to me:

When you know with absolute certainty in your heart that you are on the right path, the pain is not to be suffered, it’s to be celebrated.

Why?

Because if you are on the right path, and you know this in your soul, the discomfort is really just a release. Release is very, very good.

Until this moment, I thought that all pain was ‘bad’ and thought of it as a sign that I was in the wrong place. Well, I guess even a baby grain of sand can grow, because now I know the opposite to be true.

Whether you are moving away from something, moving towards something, or just taking a moment (imagine that!) to pause and be still inside yourself, it’s natural that pain will come. Because when you are growing, you are letting go of the old and building the new…you are cracking the hard seed open, opening to a soft, tender new life…pain, pleasure and all.

Georgia on my mind

“I wish I lived in a tent…and could open the flaps at both ends and let the wind blow everything out and start over again.” -Georgia O’Keeffe

painting: by Georgia O’Keeffe
photo of Georgia: by Alfred Stieglitz

Sunflowers & Stone Fruits: Summer’s Sweet Spot

Summer is finally winding down, and I say thank god for that. While this hot, sweaty, 80 degrees indoors at 8pm time of year is nearly over, I will say there is a sweet spot to this season, and it’s upon us this very moment.

Can you feel it?

It’s in the sunflowers that are bursting everywhere – yellow, brown and rust-collored, just now reaching their full regalia: on farms, at home, in the schoolyard garden and even (if you pay attention) in cracks in parking lot pavement – it seems even impenetrable concrete can’t resist this kind of beauty.

It’s in the stone fruits: peaches, pluots, plums, nectarines. The colors alone of these little gems are enough to make me warm up to this overbearing season: peach, pink, orange, crimson, purple, celadon green. The colors swirl together like paint on a canvas or an ikat blanket covering a caravan at sunset.

Let’s not forget the tomatoes, so old fashioned, dependable, delicious. They don’t ask for much: a little dry soil and some salt and pepper. A splash of good olive oil. Maybe a basil leaf or two. Red, yellow, green, orange. Beauty in the most basic.

If everything in life were this simple.

Yes, the air is officially changing, and the equinox is just around the corner. I don’t need a calendar to tell me this, I can feel it in the air alone. Warm and dry, a slight breeze, hot pink sunsets.

This sky bound beauty, a few ripe stone fruits and a table of just-picked sunflowers are an intoxicating delight for the senses, and somehow make me soften to my least favorite season.

They offer beauty and sweetness, and I offer them immense gratitude for offering a moment of pause and pleasure before autumn (thank god) is upon us.

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Silent Summer School

Though I recently expressed that summer is my least favorite season, it has shaped up quite nicely in terms of my work at the schoolyard garden.

I’m still tending the tiny plot at the edge of what is mostly a concrete jungle, and the nicest part of it – no offense – is that the school is almost completely empty.

I’ve turned the entire experience into my own little oasis. I drop my son off at camp and make my way over to the secret garden.

Instead of being greeted by screaming kids, honking horns or blaring announcements over the PA system, during the silent summer, I’m greeted by plants, bees, quiet and an old wooden bench where I sip my tea, read the book I’ve brought with me or just sit in silence.

It’s heaven.

Of course, there is work to be done, too, which I take on happily. I like working. A lot. I learn so much from the plants, and their process of transformation reminds me to release what has been, be here with what’s now, and look forward to the abundance to come.

Mirrors everywhere – I am grateful.

I’m also excited for the garden space to be in tip top shape when class is back in session next month. I’m weeding, planting, pruning, trimming and planning an expansion for a little lavender sitting garden. That will be a fun surprise for everyone.

The only ‘company’ I have on campus is my favorite fixture at the school – Arnold. He’s the self proclaimed ‘legend’ who has dutifully cared for the school for the past 7 years.

As janitor, he’s got a pulse on everything going on there, and he takes real good care of me, helping me whenever I need it, and leaving me alone when he sees I’m sitting in meditation while he’s cleaning nearby.

We are a good team.

His favorite nicknames for me are tomboy, sweetie, honey and dirt dog, in no particular order. I think he likes that I can wield a pick axe one day and show up in a dress and heels another.

He sees the real me.

Most of the time you’ll find him gliding through school on his sweeper. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow. He’s very Zen about it. I think it’s his moving meditation, though we don’t ever talk about it like that. Some things are better left unsaid, if you know what I mean. Mostly we just like to joke around and pose for the occasional funny photo together (see below).

Yes, these days at school it’s just me, the garden and Arnold. Taking in the sun and enjoying a little peace and quiet in a place that will soon enough be buzzing again with life and activity.

little things

Sometimes it’s in the little things.

And sometimes it’s in the big things.

But today…it was the little things. Little moments of grace, gratitude. Metaphorical seeds planted for next season’s harvest. Faith and moving forward. I’m hungry for what’s next.

In the schoolyard garden that I still tend during summer break, I am grateful for the solitude, the quiet and even for all the weeds that need my attention.

I fucking love those weeds.

They are clear, decisive, transparent. Easy.

There is no debate as to whether they are ‘good’ or ‘bad’ for me, they simply do not belong mixed in with the bed of strawberries.

End of story.

I fucking love those weeds.

They make it easy for me. No decisions to make, no problems to solve, no bigger life choices to contemplate.

Just grab, pull, toss. They take me in like a gentle old friend who doesn’t ask any questions and who lets me just sit on the couch with a cup of tea, in silence.

I fucking love those weeds.

It was a ‘productive’ morning in the garden, mostly of doing nothing in particular, except removing the weeds (inedible) from the food (that which nourishes me). In other words, removing obstacles (I glance and smile at my tiny crystal Ganesha across the room as I write these words).

Remover of obstacles.

This morning, on my way out of the garden, I snipped a little bouquet of catnip and oregano flowers and grabbed a tiny cluster of tomatoes that had fallen to the ground. A beautiful, rustic little offering from the garden that I gratefully displayed in my home.

Much more weeding to come…