.....being there

Yogis,

These last couple of weeks my garden has been exploding. Marshmallow now taller than me, echinacea buds beginning their opening spiral dance and comfrey so top heavy she is now laying the burden of many of her stalks onto the ground. Yet each time I went out I felt like not a whole lot was going on.

I would take a stroll through, planting some of my tender seedlings in the earth and trimming back those full-bodied plants that were already beginning to block the path, awaiting that moment that would send a tingle down my spine. Nothing. And in I would go. Ho hum.

Last week I sat in my grass pod and silently weeded. For a while. It was only then that I noticed the shaking of the butterfly bush. Loud thuds and deep rustling that resembled the stomping of a tyrannosaurus rex through the jungle. I cautiously approached and lay on the ground to glance underneath. That is when I spotted the bright red eyes of the visiting box turtle from last week’s video. A tingle.

But the next day I once again was distant ……..

Only days later did it become apparent that it wasn’t life’s magic that wasn’t present, it was me. I was being the casual visitor instead of planting myself like the motherwort and being there. Landing. Staying. Listening. I was passing through life instead of living it.

I talk of this so often you would think I have it down by now, right? I don’t. The act of ‘being there’ isn’t easy. How often are any of us actually anywhere? We spend the majority of our waking moments ‘on the way’ to somewhere. In our thoughts and on our screens. Rarely being completely and utterly present with what is right under our own feet.

When I finally sat myself down in the grass, took a big exhale and opened my senses, only then did I begin to notice. To ‘be there’. The small white clover in the grass. Who knew it was so stunning when examined closely? The bees coming in for a landing with me inches away. Inchworms, dragonflies, ladybugs and spiders all within arm’s reach which I hadn’t even noticed moments earlier. The breeze against my skin. The warmth of the sun.

I was reminded, so I am reminding you. Find time each day to land. To be there. Allowing all that ‘has to be done’ to wait a few minutes. To experience the magic that is always there waiting.

Friday night I took the time to hang out the open window next to my bed which overlooks the garden. A bat swooped by and then I saw them. The twinkling of the fireflies lighting up the trees. Did someone say magic? Bed can wait……I want to ‘be here.’

“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.” — Buddha

Here is an excellent place to be,
SARAH