Is There a Doctor in the Greenhouse?

Why, yes, there is. I made it, folks. I'm Dr. Miles as of this morning! Thank you for believing in me. EdD in Higher Education Leadership.

I'm out in the greenhouse at 5:30 a.m. to tell the congregation, but the cabbage plants are too sleepy to care, and the lilies have their own ambitions --- they will bloom any day now. Any day now. We have to keep believing, no matter how sad it gets in the world, and the poor souls in Italy are burying the dead every day. I read that a priest gave up his ventilator to someone younger, a stranger... and as a result, he died:

"Don Giuseppe Berardelli, 72, was the archpriest of Casnigo, a town in northern Italy about 50 miles northeast of Milan."

He Was a Priest Who Listened to Everyone

I'm listening to the magical voice of Alan Johnson at The Poet's Narrative, who is doing a live video on Facebook sharing the medical news from where he is, and mentioning how his garden soothes him. The garden has its own narrative, its story of persistence in difficult soil or too much rain or not enough, or of an absent-minded gardener. (I am not the only one of those, it seems -- because there's another wonderful blogger you should meet, and she confesses to forgetting to water...).

Starlings Gather Here

And someone journaling about it...

And someone writing music about it... do listen, please. It will do your heart good. I just bought the digital album because now is a time to be buying the work of artists and musicians if we can.

Gabriel Olafs

Now, with my doctorate, am I officially an absent-minded professor?

Let's pay attention, not only to our gardens, but to each other. Let's be vigilant about our love and caring. The world needs it. And to everyone who is making sacrifices, small or large ones, you are making something bloom. Any day now.

Love from my little church in the greenhouse,

Tamara

Comments

Reaping What I Sow

That's the essence of karma, isn't it, and really the core of the golden rule as well: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you... because that's probably how it's going to work out. The hurt we caused years ago may come back to humble us in the form of a humiliating sting or a gaping heart wound today. We often reap what we sow, and it's great in the garden. It can be great in everyday life, in our spiritual work, too, if we are sowing good seeds full of grace and compassion. (painting by Carol Wisniewski ) I don't know if you've ever caused any pain to other people, but I have --- and I've written about it before, and worked to forgive myself, and all those kinds of spirtual practices, but I still regret it. I've never understood when people say they don't have any regrets. I remember hearing a friend say that once in front of his wife, whom he had hurt terribly at one time -- to the point that they divorced, but later remarrie...

Cicada Song

(borrowed from Obviously Chloe They're back, and they are mighty --- out in full force, showing off. Cousin to the leafhopper and froghopper, I hear. And while I listen, I am also tuning in to Jubilee Circle , the community church I attend (virtually, at the moment). The service began with a gentle piece on violin. Via Positiva Theme: remaining open. Hearts wide open. One blink away from being fully awake (thank you, Pema Chodron). We need something to wake us up. Drumbeat, sage, find the four directions, and listen to the voices of the cicada. Most of the time it lives underground, growing for years into an adult. Cicadas drink the sap from trees, and in large swarms cause destruction. This year is the once in 17-year mating cycle, according to Jason Slotkin of NPR. Cicadas mean summer. They are invested in mating. What is it, friends, that we are investing ourselves in? Does the soul stand a chance in this withering political climate? Have you heard of the ...

Rise of the Elephant Ears

Friends, you wouldn't believe how tall the elephant ears are. They've risen to the height of the gazebo and are not showing any signs of slowing down. The three amigos in their bed have had several seed pods, to our delight, and now we've got baby elephant ears going nicely in the greenhouse. I admired them on my walk around the yard this morning in my ruby red belted robe, harvesting beans and green tomatoes, a cucumber, and stashing them in my pocket. Now I'm on the swing listening to "The Sound of Sunshine" as performed by the band at Jubilee Circle. Elephant ears love the sunshine --- we just have to keep the water coming to the roots, stand by and let them spread outward and upward. This photo is from earlier in the summer, and you can see the seed pods. Having never had any before, I didn't know how the process worked --- the pod becomes a pale yellow bloom, and only when the bloom dies do the berry-like seeds emerge, looking like corn on the cob, o...

Church in the Greenhouse

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