Tuesday, June 9, 2009


Amazing the kinds of things one thinks about when watching the world go by from a wheelchair.

My thoughts actually began with the beginnings of my preparation for our High Holy Day celebration this Fall. I was sitting in my study looking at my HHD book and realizing that I need a ladder to get it off the shelf. I guess I need to ask for help. One legged ladder hopping is just an invitation to further disaster with no one to blame but myself.

Just the mere thought of that set me off on another contemplative musing: that one of our main goals during our Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur season is teshuvah which means turn. Some say it means turn back; others to turn away from evil, toward good; I think it has to do with turning into ourselves first, and then turning outward with the best we can be.

Which then made me think: Many of our Eco-green friends can watch how wonderful things grow and become rich if they have a compost pile and turn it often. A compost pile ignored, even if more "riches" are added to it, will not become rich unless it is turned often. It has to be tended, nurtured, turned and returned.

As with our lives. We toss riches upon ourselves to heal some sort of need. We buy self-help books thinking that will solve what ails us (do we read them? often not -- the act of buying them is often as far as we get.) And as we add possessions and stuff to our lives, we sometimes wonder: Is that all there is?

But if we remember to turn our stuff over, tend ourselves, and keep turning until we like the richness that unfolds, then we are making good spiritual progress. Sometimes we need to stop dragging home more physical possessions. Sometimes we need to learn to live leaner. But mostly, we need to dig around inside our hearts and spirits to see what is lying stagnant there that needs to be examined -- old hurts, grudges, self defeating thoughts. If so, dig them up and toss them out. Make room for joy, for loving kindness, for peace. Dig around and turn and return until you find the richest, sweet smelling, lushly vibrant self you can find, and then LET IT SHINE -- AND SHARE IT WITH THE WORLD.

1 comment:

Jandi said...

A beautiful essay that you should submit to one of the many gardening magazines. Seriously, the parallel you draw between a compost pile and our acquisitive lives is brilliant and deserves wider readership.