D'vorahDavida
Yetzirah

Meditation
Sat Apr 05 2003

The sky is filled today with gigantic, constantly changing cumulous clouds. The sun shines warm for a bit and then a dark cloud moves and grows and the day turns gray. Pretty soon, the sun is out again. One cannot decide what mood to be in. Is it a rainy day or not ? The only constant is a fresh Spring breeze that rings the little wind bell that hangs on the porch.

I’m avoiding the war on the tube today. The facts are difficult enough to digest, but the endless speculations exhaust me. We have done such a fantastic job so far. I can only pray that it is resolved soon with an Iraq free of sadistic madmen.

My reality here is so tranquil, even with the unsettled weather, that it clashes so with what I know is going on over there. I hardly know how to think and what to feel. So I walk about in my house and garden in an almost meditative state, touching a new lettuce plant, smelling the wallflowers, checking the progress of the tomato seedlings, using them as talismans of “normal” to help keep my balance in stressful times. The tangerine tree is beginning to bloom. Those blossoms have such a strong and heady scent I would have to call them mind altering. And you will never believe it, but I checked carefully on the peach tree and I found a pale green fuzzy ball the size of a small pea. A few fruits have set. I hope they continue to do well, I can hardly imagine eating a peach from my very own tree. We shall see.

The blackberries are forming flower buds in profusion. Blackberry pie cannot be far behind ! I can taste it already. The rhubarb is up with about three small leaves showing.

Inside, the whole house smells of chicken soup. I’m cooking it to make chicken and biscuits for Shabbat dinner. Comfort food. It will also be comforting to do the candle lighting, a familiar ritual that reminds me that all will be well, and that when all is said and done, justice will flow like a river.

All of these precious ordinary things are ours because we live in peace and safety. Our soldiers in Iraq stand guard over my little back yard, protecting the tiny peaches and the nascent blackberries. Without their bravery and dedication we could be trembling in our homes wondering when the thugs were going to break in and haul us away in the middle of the night.

Freedom is so precious, it’s price is very high. Don’t take it for granted.



4 Comments
  • From:
    ShadowRose (Legacy)
    On:
    Sat Apr 05 2003
    sounds lovely. i need to do something similar. i've been wound up in knots lately.
  • From:
    Pragmatist (Legacy)
    On:
    Sat Apr 05 2003
    Yours is a tranquil environment. I can't help being a little envious of your yard and your hide-away desk.

    Chicken soup and biscuits. Mmmmm!

    Shabbat shalom.
  • From:
    Becoming (Legacy)
    On:
    Sat Apr 05 2003
    Our soldiers are indeed brave. We must honor them by appreciating that freedom bought so dearly and enjoy our daily lives as you have done. Chicken soup sounds so wonderfully comforting. *smile*
  • From:
    Bookworm (Legacy)
    On:
    Sat Apr 05 2003
    Very well said. ;-)