I was feeling exhausted, with an achy back and a head full of pollen, when I returned home from work this evening. I plopped myself down in the chair where I had fully intended to spend the rest of my evening. The warm, spring breeze was softly blowing through the open window and the sunlight glistened creating rainbows as it reflected through the crystal hanging above. My breath became slower and deeper as my mind shifted gears and my body settled into relaxation mode. This is what I had been waiting for all day, the time in space where there was nothing to be done, no one that wanted anything from me, nor me anything from them. Well, almost no one.
There she sat on the couch across from me staring at me with those gentle amber eyes and ears all perky at attention. I swear sometimes my dog, Izzy, looks like she's smiling. She was happy I was home but even more so, she was anticipating her evening walk. Didn't she know how tired and sore I was, how hard I had been working, how much I just wanted to sit and do nothing? No, she didn't, but I knew she would forgive me and forget about it in a little while anyway. As I sat relaxing with a cup of tea, Izzy also relaxed. She sunk into the couch with a surrendering sigh. Her gaze went out into space, her perky ears dropped and her smile slipped away as she accepted her fate in the moment. Picking up on my vibration, she had shifted gears. As I watched my low energy vibration be reflected back to me from her, I thought to myself, "Sometimes I wish I could just be as happy and forgiving as Izzy. Instead of her lowering to my vibration, perhaps I should rise to hers."
Shantji's voice rang in my ears, "You can do anything for 10 minutes." I decided I could go on a short walk. I told Izzy we weren't going to the woods because then I would have to put on shoes, and flip flops were all the effort I could muster up. The only thing she understood was that we were going, and that's all that mattered to her. Bridling her excitement as best she could, Izzy picked up on my lethargy and walked slow and easy, not her usual style. As we wandered up the street, I began to notice the bright, happy colors of the spring flowers blossoming and the golden light shining through the trees, and I felt my load lightening. My eyes fell upon two juniper trees guarding the opening of a driveway. Funny I never noticed them before, as I walk that street almost daily. Their branches were twisted in the most unusual of ways, and their needles spread out in the shape of huge fans. I stopped and stared as memories flooded my awareness.
Even the smell of the juniper berries I used to decorate my mud pies came to me, just as sharp as it ever was. In the empty lot next to my grandparents house, I had my own magical kingdom. Probably not more than a 1/4 acre but to me as a kid, it was a vast forest, of which I was the queen. It was the huge juniper tree that was my kitchen where my grandparents proclaimed the best mud pies in St. Augustine came from . My grandmother would save her old pie tins for me. I would pack them with sandy, Florida soil that I would ever so diligently stir to perfection with sulfur water. My specialty was Juniper Berry Mud Pie, and I would serve them up on a palm fawn. Siding them out from underneath the huge fan of juniper needles that opened the carry out window of my restaurant, I would yell out to my grandparents, "Come and get 'em while their fresh, Mimi and Dada, before the Wooliemajiggers eat them all." And they would always come, and ooh and awe over how delicious my pies were, never questioning me what a Wooliemajigger was.
The sweet memory of my grandparents and my magical kingdom made me want to visit the woods. Although my back was still hurting and I was wearing flip flops, somehow it didn't matter anymore. I was reminded how juicy the woods are. Somewhere in the doldrums of the day, I had forgotten. With a little more spring in my step, I headed to the woods. Approaching the woods, I notice a few Daffodils had sprung up looking like they were lining an entry way into the woods. I think this happened naturally. It's no one's property and it's not cared for in anyway. It's just the side of the road. I could smell them as soon as I could see them. I reached to pick one and took a big whiff of it's sweet smell. Then I remembered this was the exact same place where just 3 months ago I found Narcissus growing. They seemed to be growing in the same odd place.
The Narcissus has a most profound memory for me. I don't think I had ever smelled them before I went to Iowa to live at a huge ashram many years ago. There were things about that place I liked, but mostly I never felt at home there. There weren't many comforts and the winter was brutal. Strangely enough, one of my fondest memories of the ashram was at Christmas time. Huge pots of Narcissus were everywhere inside doorways, and decorating the sitting areas and meditation halls. Something about their intoxicating scent made me forget it was 40 below outside, and I was homesick. It's like they have some wonderful, magical power over me.
I headed into the woods with my happy dog and my intoxicating Daffodil in hand, along with my aching back and pollen filled head. No, it didn't go away, but it didn't matter anymore. It seems I can either focus on what needs to be fixed or coddled or changed or I can just skip off into the forest and get intoxicated by Nature, but I can't seem to do both at the same time. Life can be as juicy as we want it to be, but we must develop the art of tasting, smelling, seeing and touching the beauty around us. Preoccupation with anything other than what is right now, sucks the juice out of the moment. All experiences, memories and thoughts are fleeting. Savor what brings you pleasure but don't try to hold onto it. Endure what you can't enjoy, but don't get sucked into it. Nothing lasts forever. Find a magical kingdom, filled with intoxicating flowers. Go there often and make juniper berry mud pies. Nothing is as important as you think it is. Viva la Juicy!
