Beloved friends,
Last week's missive was a lot. Let's go easy this week. Let's shift lenses on the world. Let's shift to a different plane entirely, in fact: the respite of relating to our green kin in the life of the Earth.
One of the biggest events in my personal realm right now is blossom. I use that word often as metaphor, but I mean it literally here. The first time my friend & neighbor Liz came to the Little Temple for yoga this year, she had an amaryllis bulb in hand for me. I'd never seen one like this: dipped in red wax to make it a self-contained object. No need for water or soil; you just set it in the light.
Day by day I've watched the stem rise, the buds ripen, petals unfolding. Today the third bud is opening, so if I let this plant be a place where my attention returns for respite, I can feel them open, slowly, over the course of the day. It slows down my whole sense of being to do this. It adds another layer of perception to my sense of existence. Feeling into plant time this way draws me out of the busy swirl of humanity. The grace of the unfolding of petals is a tonic to my heart and mind.
Last week I quoted a member of our community who said, "I have to budget how much I think of that," about this time in our national life. I noted how wise this was in implying both limit and dedication to paying attention. "In short," I said, "it is important to look, and it is important to look away."
In the realm of mental health, there is a simple phrase used as a suggestion for self-care when dealing with anxiety, depression, or overwhelm: zooming in and zooming out. Blossom zooms me out of my thoughts and in to the particular life of a plant, of an individual blossom. It invites me to mystery and certainty, both.
The orchids are blossoming, too! One of them is the happiest I have ever seen an orchid raised by me, with extravagant air roots with a beautiful sheen, plush, luminous leaves, and two stems holding 14 buds. It hangs above my head, here above the loveseat where I do most of my writing.
At dawn and dusk as I open and close the blinds, I linger at the orchid to feel the buds growing slowly larger and paler. The first one opened last week, surprising me with its beautiful face when I thought it still had a ways to go. Through the day I turn to it, and it slows me down. A tiny trataka (gazing meditation) looking into the face of this blossom. Into beauty that is eternal and fleeting. Through the day I pause to gaze at the amaryllis, and each dip into plant time is a tiny respite. I rested my eyes upon the amaryllis a dozen times while writing this missive. Feeling plant time is a delicious, soothing thread, a steady level of my daily existence.
Underneath the orchid is a hoya carnosa grown from cuttings gifted by a neighbor when I was new here. It took two years for them to grow enough roots to plant! I love to watch the way their tendrils reach for the light – sometimes the window, sometimes the lamp beside them. There are pothos all over the house, because they are so easy and friendly and don't need much light, and because pruning them makes more of them. Before we left for our years at sea, most of the rooms of our home in San Francisco were wrapped in pothos vines. It will take many years to wrap the rooms here, and feeling the slow growth of the plants in that direction is another way that they call me out of hurry and urgency.
The windowsills of the sunroom are lined with little pots: orchids, string of hearts, spider plants. The string of hearts began from cuttings I carried home in my suitcase after visiting Kate. The spider plants are from spiders grown by plants Marcy and Josh brought on a visit. The plants call me with these memories into connection, into friendship and ties over time. When I walked into the sunroom to photograph these for you, I let out a little scream as I discovered that another orchid had opened, a purple and yellow one.
This is a recent cutting from a night-blooming cereus. When my Pegi saw me throw my hat in the ring for some cereus cuttings being offered on our local Buy Nothing group, she said I could have one from hers. Look at that little new... leaf? steam? it has put out! OH MY GOSH THE CHARM. It is distinctly larger today than yesterday, and gazing at it fills me with delight and hope.
I paused here to think about what to say next. In that space my body let out a contented sigh. Yes, that: there is peace, ease, connection, in cherishing life. In threading awareness into the more-than-human life of the Earth. Eagle season has begun! Bald eagles are soaring over the meadows, hunting. I've finally learned to discern a crow call from a raven call; now that I can hear it, I'm astonished that I couldn't hear it before. The life of the world is beautiful and nourishing. Sustaining. A comfort, a refuge, an inspiration.
May it offer all of this to you, precious friend.
Resources
Zooming Out
Gazing at the stars has been an invitation to wonder for as long as there have been humans. It's one of our favorite pastimes. In winter there is less moisture in the atmosphere than in summer, making less haze and crisper viewing. It is cloudy and foggy here in the PNW, but on clear nights, oh! EarthSky has a great guide to things you can see with binoculars in the night sky if that's an option you have. If you're brand new and learning there are lots of apps that will show you what you are looking at when you point your phone toward the sky; I like Sky Guide. Thanks to Anna
Chatting with the Mystery
Last summer a dear friend shared something she was lit up about: a deck of cards for divination by Maria Popova. Each has an image of a bird from a 19th century ornithological book accompanied by a poem made from words included in the descriptive text that originally accompanied the image. I bought myself a set for my birthday this winter and they are exquisite; with meaningful insight in the language and beautiful images of our feathered kin. Warmest recommendation. Thanks to Calah
The Comfort of Story and Kindness
NPR has a series called My Unsung Hero in which people tell stories of their experience of being the recipient of acts of kindness, generosity, heroism. It is a beacon of goodness and such a balm. In this episode, Connie Sherburne tells the story of how a woman at the insurance office said to her, after dealing with formalities following her husband's sudden, unexpected death, "People are going to stop and ask you, 'How can I help?' Let them.'" The episode shares how this changed her life. Thanks to Cup of Jo
Doorways to Grace All Over
Last Friday I held a Zoom gathering to discuss this moment in our shared life. It was a powerful conversation. In discussions like this, we almost always reach a point where someone says, "What should we do?" I always aim to answer both specifically and generally; and I did this at length here last week. Sometimes, people feel like political action is not feasible for some reason, so I wish to note that social action is also a vital form of contribution. The podcast above offered a beautiful example: after Connie's husband died, one of her rural neighbors made extra when cooking dinner, and her husband drove it over to Connie's place – for four years. For four years, someone quietly fed her grieving neighbor. This could be you. Opportunities for life-changing kindness are everywhere.
Upcoming
On Saturday March 7 at 5:30pm Pacific I will be speaking for an hour with my friend and teacher Swami Ramananda in an event called The Deepest Form of Healing. "Yoga teaches that much of our suffering arises from a disconnection from our true nature. While physical and emotional pain are real, our relationship to them shifts when we begin to experience the spiritual presence at the core of our being. Join Dahlia and Swami Ramananda for a reflective discussion on how reconnecting with this inner source supports genuine healing, offering greater clarity, steadiness, and a more peaceful way of meeting the challenges of daily life." Donations to support the SF IYI are welcome; you are also welcome to join for free.
Resistance
I shared last week's newsletter to Facebook, where it has had close to 23,000 views. Precisely one person joined this newsletter as a result of that. Welcome, new friend! I rarely post my full newsletter there; I do not wish to give my free labor to Meta. I do find that platform a useful way to speak to more people, and now and then I raise my voice. When posting on a meaningful topic I try to follow through and engage with people who comment. This post saw it all: appreciation and hatred from humans, plus my first bot commenters. If you'd like to see me walk my talk on unconditional love, clear communication, and exquisite boundaries, you can read the comments here. Some excellent resources arose from that discussion:
Daryl Davis is a Black R&B and blues musician, an activist, and has convinced dozens of people to leave the KKK by befriending them. He's a fantastic speaker. Here's a quick intro via NPR. If you'd like a deeper dive, his website lists his books and talks. Thanks to Hawk
Braver Angels states their mission as "courageous citizenship" and says, "Braver Angels is leading the nation’s largest cross-partisan, volunteer-led movement to bridge the partisan divide and strengthen our democratic republic." They seek to heal the gulf in our national life by building trust in respectful conversation. Thanks to John
Isaac Saul is a political reporter who wrote a thoughtful piece for Tangle about his willingness to forgive Kanye West, who recently took out a full page ad in the Wall Street Journal to apologize for his vile, vehement antisemitic actions. I'm not saying that anyone should share that writer's opinion, especially folks who are Jewish. You get to feel and believe what you feel and believe. I am suggesting that this is a thought-provoking essay about hatred, mental illness, and forgiveness. It led me to take some deep breaths, think hard, and I have it bookmarked to read aloud for discussion with my husband this weekend. Thanks to Aimee
Supporting Me So I Can Support You
This is entirely human work. My work, done by hand, with my own mind and heart; I do not use AI in the creation of what I offer you. I don't have one. I invest at least half a day every week in the creation of this newsletter. It's a labor of love; I currently earn about $15/hr. I do this because it is important to me, because I hear that it's important to you, and in hopes that it will grow.
If you enjoy my work, you can give me a raise! You could make a one-time donation of thanks of any size. You could upgrade to a paid subscription for as little as $5/month. Thanks to Anne and Marci for stepping up last week.
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Sharing my newsletter is also a gift! Hopefully it enriches the friends you share with and in expanding my reach may expand the compensation I receive for my time.
If you are a supporter, thank you; I am honored and humbled by your willingness to support my work in the world, and you have put food on my table. Thank you also for your kind words; hearing that folks are reading is wonderful! If you've got something you think fits here, I'd love to hear that!
