Skip to main content

Soul Harvest

Oh, the bounties of the earth! Is it me, or does it seem that there is so much possibility in the air, so much love, so much peace, just ripe for the taking. I couldn't help but feel it as I opened my front door today and found a box of delicious jewels of the earth left to me anonymously! I couldn't help but feel it after my treasured friend tracked me down with a dozen eggs from her personality-plus chickens. Recently my friend brought me grapes from her garden and some fresh halibut that her husband had caught. Perhaps these gifts seem small to some, but to me they are a gigantic part of my manifesting well-being in my life.

I take notice of the small things, because together they become great. By sharing their gifts, these friends have given me a little piece of magic for my kitchen, put me back in touch with where my food comes from. There is a richness in knowing the origins of my food, in knowing that someone lovingly cultivated the fruit and vegetables for me, gathered eggs from the animals who are loved in their family, who are fed and cared for by them, or who spent time in the beauty of nature fishing. It makes me appreciate the people who are working hard to supply our local farmers' market and grocery stores, as it reminds me of those who have a name and a face who make it happen.

It inspires me to look at my own garden and all of the other living things I take care of in my life, including myself, and to partake of the gifts, and to participate in the cultivating and nurturing of them, not because I am obligated to, but because it adds a richness to my life. I am seeing inklings of how the care-taking of anything, whether it is animal, vegetable, or mineral, can come from a quiet place, how the fruits of my labor can bring about more peace and tranquility, and more vision of beauty. It isn't living in denial of the difficult, but allowing it all as part of the sacred whole; finding a new brand of beauty, a new trust, that comes from your authentic power and capabilities. It doesn't strive to look like anyone around you, unless of course, you are inspired by what you see, and it would create magic in your experience to do it that way. I believe that if you are inspired that way, it is only communicating with a part of yourself that is yearning to be discovered anyway.

And the future is bright, a stark contrast to how I used to see things: always full of more hardship. Now as I create and protect my sacred space, I begin to see the beauty of life unraveling with so many possibilities, all of them equally perfect. I don't feel attached to any certain outcome, and feel excited to see the grand landscape revealed. I can't wait for what is around the corner to teach me, and to make me go deeper into my heart, and less into my mind. I can't wait to feel the chills on my skin as I watch others find their own peace and awareness, and their perfect letting go. I can't wait to feel the love that just shines around me and keeps my heart safely open--safely open to notice all of it, and always helping me to find the silver lining.

I am so thankful...

Harvest time...a time of endings and beginnings, a time of embracing all that has been, and will be, but mostly to see what is happening right at the very moment we are experiencing it.
I think of the little old man my little one and I see on our walk home from school. This beautiful man, who is clearly enamoured with my little blondie, takes a moment everyday to acknowledge our existence. One day we walked by his house and my daughter was chattering away as we passed. I was lost somewhere in my thoughts, and admittedly, not listening to her chirpings. But this man listened to her, and said "You've got quite a little chatterbox there!" And I said, " Oh, what? Yes, I do." And then I smiled and began to listen to her little chatter, and was drawn back into her lovely energy. We started imagining what kind of worlds we would create, all made out of candy, with all of the colors mixed up like crazy!

Today we passed this man again, out in his garden. "Not so chatty today?" He said. "No, not so chatty. I think she is hot." I said. We smiled. And just to make sure I knew the stars were aligned, he offered us his bounty, and asked us if we would like some tomatoes.

Oh, darling reader, this is the magic I am talking about--those moments when someone decides to share, and you are there ready to receive. No, I'm not talking about the tomatoes, I am talking about the piece of himself, the veges were just a bonus!

He invited us into his garden, and I forgot all about the heat. I was transfixed. There in the most beautiful rows was his garden, a veritable vegetable world. He walked over to the six-foot tomato plants lined up like soldiers, and picked some for us, then he bent to the stubby little footmen and picked some lemon cucumbers for us, so that we might have the makings for a complete little salad when we got home. Then he told us he was a Kiwi, which I had already gathered from his accent. He told us he had been a merchant marine, and how he had been "chased down" by this American woman. He told me how his captain had apologized, but had told him that the only room left for the American was at his table, and how he had balked to make the American sit at another table. He must not have balked for long, however, because he ended up marrying her. They moved to our town many years ago, leaving his Kiwi roots and finding new roots here--this man could grow wherever he was planted--clearly, and so could his vegetables.

We left his vegetable kingdom attraction, growing right in the heart of our neighborhood, thankful to be among those who knew what amazing world was existing behind his fences.

Thank you for the beauty created at his hands, for his sharing of it with us, for the opportunity to partake of it with all the senses. Thank you for his inspiration, infusing me with spirit.

When we got home, with his wonderful jewels from his garden, we cut a tomato open and tasted it, and my daughter and I just started laughing, because these were the most amazing tomatoes we had ever eaten!

Thank you beautiful man, thank you beautiful neighbors, thank you beautiful friends, for sharing your bounties with me, and for bringing me such beauty in my every day. Thank you universe, that I might have the clarity to recognize it and to receive.


Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, mag


Photo by Ben Herbert on I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing. I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline. The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here. There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons. My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a singl

Partaking of the Fruit

Photo by Anya Vasilieva on What I most struggle with in creative writing is that there are some ideas that just feel like they belong in the ether, in the natural born clouds. They aren’t meant to be pinned down, and every time I try to pin them down into a practical form on a page, I wound them a little bit, and must throw them back up into the ether for repair, to restore their more nebulous characteristics. This content isn’t supposed to have legs and weight, and to make noise when it walks, or to have such things as a name and defining characteristics. Rather, just whiffs of possibility that hint at an undercurrent of parallel worlds so vast and amazing as to put any Tolkien or Rowling to shame. Its just supposed to hang there, ripe for plucking, but the plucker beware. The fruit bruises easily. And yet, there are those books that seem to pin down something that doesn’t maim the central cast of characters, and in fact broadens the material into something that change