Tag: connection

175 House Plant Exodus

Some of my plants have names. It really isn’t about connection, more about identification. Plants can be like pets, but I am scarred for life, damaged by foliage abandoment.

It is fall.  Much like the plants that die down outdoors, there is a sense of season to the indoor variety.  Two of my plants are calling it quits this year.  They are going the way of over a million Covid deaths.  It must be a good year to enter higher realms.

Nyasha is also losing a couple of bamboo.  They are helped along by meddling cats, gnawing on the leaf ends, or going straight for a chomp at the stem.

Some of my plants have names.  It really isn’t about connection, more about identification.  Plants can be like pets, but I am scarred for life, damaged by foliage abandoment.  In the past, I loved my indoor plants.  They were my babies before the living, breathing, warm blooded variety.  And then there were power outages, in winter, that lasted for weeks.  Saving the animals, saving the children and the pipes, those were priority.  The plants didn’t make it.  And then they didn’t make it AGAIN.  I was heartbroken.  And I don’t connect as deeply.

The plants are vitality.  They bring life in where space it devoid of nature.  This house has a lot of wood features, another way of bringing the cycle of nature into a dead space.  Ironically, dead nature, but nature none the less.  So many apartments and houses are now created from materials that do not connect our hearts with God’s gifts of the earth, or they bring in items like marble, that are cold and harsh to our internal perception.

Tulip with pink flowers in a pot on kitchen window with other house plants..
Tulip in bloom in the kitchen

I feel a bit of guilt for being relieved when a house plant departs.  Another responsibility off of my list.  Check.  Sacred cycles.  I can let the plants go.  They cannot die, not really.  They continue on as soil that feeds the other plants.  We all do.  We all die, and yet live, continuing in the cycles of the earth and in the spiritual journey of Unity.  

171 The Dump

There was a period of time where I would load my stuff, then stop in town to pick up Judy and her cans. It was actually a lot of fun!

The concept of going to the dump has changed a lot.  I can vaguely picture Dad loading a truck when I was young.  Things loosely thrown in the back.  Stacked high.  

When we lived in Granite Falls, the garbage went to the dump.  Garbage service only came to end of the easement road, far, far away.  So, the trash was loaded into the pick up truck and driven to the Drop Box.

There was a period of time where I would load my stuff, then stop in town to pick up Judy and her cans.  It was actually a lot of fun!  I connect trips to the dump to release, to joy, and to connection to people.

When I went alone, I inevitably conversed with random folks, dropping off their own discardables.  We mused about our collections, or spoke of mysterious topics that came randomly to the situation.  When no one else was there, I enjoyed the forested location, the quiet, and the sense of accomplishment.

Judy and I would stop for coffee, or just talk and laugh.  

The dump at Airport Way is not as pleasing.  It is loud, all concrete, and doesn’t provide for interaction with anyone.  But my mind holds the same reward sensation.  When I visit, I feel the connection and the happiness that history has built into my cognition.  The relief of unburdening my world of trash, overwhelm, and clutter wins.  I win.