Church in the Greenhouse

The magnificent lily that glowed  and grinned like a tiger has dropped her blooms and hidden herself for the year. I have the plant, still healthy, and the memory of her beauty and presence --- and a bit of sadness. It is a similar sadness to the way I miss certain friendships that have faded. One I am thinking of particularly now has lingered on my mind of late. I long to be in touch, but when one loves, one waits and carries on. The other may have found new attachments, or distractions, or his or her own overwhelming circumstances, and the bloom is off the rose (or lily), so to speak. We feel forgotten. There's some chance we are, isn't that humbling? There's a better chance we are remembered like the tiger lily who once shone so brightly in the life of our absent friend. We are like a softer painting of that lily now in memory., perhaps... (painting by  Judith Travis ) It's also possible that we flatter ourselves, and the ego says, "I want to be remem...

David has been warning me about snakes in my greenhouse and out in the backyard garden beds. Wear shoes, he says, and brings out mothballs. It's timely, then, that I'm studying Kundalini yoga today. Kundalini means "coiled," and the serpent/snake is revered. (image borrowed from  Meditative Mind This banished creature ( St. Patrick's work in Ireland? ) is a subject of fascination for me, and one of my favorite poems is "The Snake" by D.H. Lawrence, in which the speaker engages with a snake at his fountain, experiencing admiration and revulsion in equal parts. Part of what makes the poem delightful is Lawrence's expert use of the "s" sound throughout. You'll want to read the whole thing, but here is the beginning: A snake came to my water-trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat, To drink there. In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob tree I came down the steps with my pitcher A...

Good morning, congregants and other lovers. I'm having an Easter sunrise service on the back deck with the dogs, God bless them. The sad old phrase, "Gone to the dogs" has a new delightful meaning to me. It usually means things turned out badly, or it referred to people such as criminals and "bad eggs" who were sent away to live among the "lower" creatures as the prodigal son of the Bible did. Here, however, these two beastie boys are my fine, royal guests at the Easter tea table and divine yoga mat designed by Marichit Garcia . Look here ---  we're hurting all over the world today, but still we find love shining over us. My scripture reading this morning is from a book called For the Love of God: Handbook for the Spirit. This is from the chapter entitled "The Long Journey Home,”by Riane Eisler. The incredible jeweled lotus flower that the Buddha is holding was created by my dear friend Cat Brendel of Head Graffiti Studio:  http://u...

I woke up troubled today -- uneasy in the mind, restless, searching for a way to feel better -- when I remembered a new book I'd chosen from Audible, waiting in my account for me to start listening. It's called Sound Bath . Within the first few seconds on introductory sounds, I began to feel more hopeful. The practice is called psycho-acoustics. What is a Sound Bath?  Officially, it's an immersive experience involving being quiet and listening to meditative sounds that include Himalayan singing bowls and other pleasing tonal instruments. But here, I'm extending it to the sounds of nature, at home, involving only the practice of paying attention to the birds, wind, chimes, leaf-rustles, or whatever pleasant visitors to my home. I'm a morning bird-listener, and even now, at 4:44 a.m., I am waiting with anticipation for the first songs of the day. Something in me eases, loosens, brightens when I hear them. I don't have a sound temple like this one: or...

Good morning, sangha. "I hope everyone here is in love" (Thich Nhat Hanh). There are two primary uses for the word cultivating : 1) to prepare ground for crops or gardening 2) to try to acquire or develop a quality, sentiment or skill (in the self or others) We might try to cultivate, for example, love, compassion, altruism, liberation, gratitude, and/or empathy in our personal gardens... along with strawberries. (thank you, dictionary) The Power of Empathy  (Emma Collins) So... I'm out here in the greenhouse at 6 a.m. doing both. I'm listening to/occasionally watching a dharma talk by the Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh called "Cultivating True Love," which he began by inviting his father to join. Thay, as he is affectionately called by his sangha, is 93 years old, so his father is long dead... the idea is that our ancestors are still part of our lives. When we want to see them, he says, we need only look into the palms of our hands. We can not ...

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 narrati...

Hi, friend. What was it you wanted to say? I've been listening and hoping to hear you. I'm up early on a Sunday morning. I've been out to the greenhouse and sat in the mostly dark for about thirty minutes, with only a little light from the fountain to guide me. The wind blew and gently shook the greenhouse walls, and occasionally the dogs barked. I have been listening to old time gospel music because I'm in the mood for it: Sunday Morning Medley Playing now: Highway to Heaven... an alternative to the well known Highway to Hell. Next tune up: "When the War is Over," which features the title line, "When the war is over, we're gonna have a time." Aren't we? We're at war with a virus, folks are saying, but when it's over, there will be joy. If you want a joyful experience, try listening to the Georgia Mass Choir: Joy So beautiful it gives me chills -- my friend Robin says that means my spirit is bearing witness. And in fact,...