Waking with nowhere to be -- a long time coming. Time is so essential to truly Seeing. Seeing is essential to Vision. Vision is essential to creating and imagination and maintaining my "Muchness."
Already this weekend has been event-filled and punctuated with fun, yet today I meet with quiet time - unscheduled and undistracted. Now that I have an unscheduled week before me, I try to keep at bay all those times during these last busy weeks that I thought to myself, "I'll do that as soon as I have the time..." So even though I now seem to have the time, it quickly seeks to fill itself with a long list of things I couldn't accomplish when I was busily committed to a project at hand. Now I try to work with more open parameters and balance the unscheduled times with leisurely projects, and find the state of mind that makes for an enjoyable week. It is of course possible to have a leisure state of mind, no matter what one is occupied with. I am a woman of Vision. When I don't have space in which to see and express the vision, I can grow discomforted.
My husband continues to encourage me to grow up into myself in so many ways, has stuck with me through those stormy times in that process, and is truly the best friend and companion I could ever hope to have.
It was time to start rotating the crops in the garden. I find that weeding the garden is therapeutic because it sometimes satisfies my craving for adventure! I certainly felt adventurous, on hands and knees bushwacking and trailblazing through the greens and tatsoi, peas and renegade squashes which have outgrown their spaces and sent towers of bolting flowers into the sky! I yanked and shook loose the dirt, threw them like javelins across the garden to an already heaping compost box, and slowly restaked my claim to the rich soil, so that I might cultivate the space with yet another nourishing vege. After three hours, the space was once again transformed to these neat little plots of food, surrounded by the soil that is its livelihood, awaiting new plants and seed.
I love these early mornings in summertime. The sun is already bright, the house is quiet, and a daily walk with Chip pulls me out of bed at 5:30. When we return, I visit the garden to give it a drink and some tending before the coming heat of the day. I fix an omelet, wash some dishes, check email, fold clothes, write -- whatever whim may lead me to do in these cool morning hours. The children are not yet awake. This is when I visualize and allow my mind to dwell in possibility. Doing simple tasks at leisure seems to encourage this.