mistake now. boon later.

i thought i made a total screw up and ended up with this pot of spice water. turns out it's a huge blessing. it's been the foundation of my lunch since. it's forgiving. it's versatile. i throw in whatever veggies there are in the fridge, and i mean whatever. for instance, the stalks leftover from steaming chard leaves, leftover fresh garbanzo beans from yet another meal, even leftover noodle. best yet, leftover chicken stock, courtesy from lois after she whipped up risotto. since this is high altitude, soup is actually very good for hydrating. in the meantime i can devote more time to working on the book while making a nice lunch effortlessly. who knew something that looks so wrong one day becomes something so right a day later.

and so it is on the spiritual path. that which look terrible by all accounts at the time reveal to be boons and blessings down the line. just stay with it, stay open and stay in the present. all this is grace. all this is grace. all this is grace.

teaching from porcupine

here i am enjoying my lunch, yapping away with my hostess/buddy clara on the back porch that is surrounded by jeffrey pines that infuse the ether with fresh butterscotch and vanilla. speaking of my lunch i am so happy that i manage to triage the soup i made for dinner. it was a disaster. too much spice. no. as a matter of fact, it's just spice water. awful. i must be out of my mind after that dip into the cold alpine lake in the sky. fortunately we have lois with us. she is this creative, fantastic cook that can really think on her feet. she cheerfully gets me some vegetable bouillon. i throw in tons of veggies, potato, carrot, peas. splash in lime juice. and a refreshing, hearty summer soup is born.

so there i am slurping and swinging my toes when, all of a sudden, i see something strange moving in the shade in front of my sightline, just a few trees away. my first thought is, this is a big fat black cat. it can't even walk like a cat. it shuffles rather than walks. i don't have distance glasses on. after a few moments i just cry out, what is that? clara turns around because this weird thing is behind her. after examining it for a few seconds she exclaims, that's a porcupine.

both of us have never seen a porcupine till now. but clara knows a lot more than i do about porcupines. it turns out this porcupine must have been sleeping under the porch and found us too loud. poor thing. i am just trying to get a little nap and these loud mouths just won't leave me in peace. as i watch this adorable creature slowly making its way across the gentle shady slope i can't help but admire its contentment and confidence. it doesn't even spend moment to look back at what's the cause of its misery. it keeps trodding forward one step at a time until it disappears underneath the next house which is totally in the shade. so focused. so one-pointed. so fearless. if i pursue my spiritual practices the way this porcupine gets to its siesta place i could be self-realized this lifetime for sure.

i never know where divine guidance might come from. seriously. really have to keep my eye and ear open.

someday i may thank the barking dog. not just yet.

hwubby asks, how's your meditation today? i say, it goes well, how's yours? he says, really good, getting clearer and clearer on who's who and what's what? true. i go into meditation today after a night of disturbed sleep. some neighbor's dog barked all night. it helps somewhat with the earplugs. i can see myself getting angry with the dog parent and the mind yelling things like, be a responsible dog parent, that's what you signed up when you decided to have a dog. blah blah blah. this would not be a good state to be in. then, as i sit through the hour-and-a-half i can see some alchemy happening little by little. the anger subsides like the morning fog. every inbreath absorbs a little bit of it. every outbreath takes away a little bit of it. by the time i'm ready to come out of mediation i know what i'm going to do. i'll go to the person who knows what's going on in the neighborhood, and actually hwubby suspects the dog belongs to one of her family members, and i'll say to her, politely and firmly, since you know everything and everyone in the hood, i need you help in something, do you know anything about this dog? it barked all night. my husband and i couldn't sleep. hwubby says, what if nobody does anything about it? i say, let's see what happens. i'm just taking care of it as it is as i see it. stay in the present. stay open. it's all i can do. as a matter of fact, it's all i need to do. what else can i do?! someday i may have to thank this barking dog for keeping me connected to my inner self. but not just yet.

stay present, stay open and i get great mangoes

hwubby has to have a lot of mango lassi for a few days. so there i am, staring into the mangoes in a high-end grocery store and shocked. 2 for $5. at the rate it has been going we'll spend a small fortune on mangoes. but hwubby just had this three hour dental implant procedure a day prior. the poor baby is on liquid diet. i don't want to deprive him but...meanwhile i keep having this recurrent hunch. don't get it here. then the mind goes on and on. where else can you get it? you're in a new town, new neighborhood, you don't have a car. i take a couple of rounds of deep breathing and then i hear this: use less mango in lassi, you can always make sweet lassi, it doesn't have to have mango. somehow it makes sense to me. fast forward the next morning. today. we walk to a farmers market in the neighborhood. beautiful produce. peaches. blueberries. raspberries. i am totally enjoying the aroma of abundance and the lovely sunshine when we approach the last store in this vibrant marketplace. hwubby says, look. i say, what? he says, mango. indeed. fifty cents a pop. three-fifty a box of ten. now i am looking at eleven gorgeous mangoes at less than forty cents apiece. what's the lesson here? stay tight in the present moment and stay open.