The temperature rose into the low seventies today, the seventh day of January. The sun beckoned me to the garden, warmed my face, boosted my spirits. The birds sang and rustled through leaves and brush; excepting them, the outside was quiet and peaceful.
As I walked through the meditation path in my garden it was impossible not to reach down occasionally to pull an errant weed or sprig of grass. It might seem incompatible with a meditation walk to surrender to weeds, but touching the soil provided an instant connection with this place, a familiar and satisfying communication. This simple act did much to quell my monkey mind today.
Meditating and gardening are compatible journeys, both interesting and soothing. They both take considerable skill and diligence to do well but beginners are gently encouraged. And though much attention is required to keep on track, they are both forgiving endeavors that always welcome me back.