Expiry Date

This Bruxmania bloomed inside my studio recently. I thought the plant had stopped blooming for this season but it seems to have liked the move inside and the dose of fertilizer. I feel the same way sometimes: a period of creativity ends and I feel burnt out. All it takes is a change of scene and new inspiration and there I go again. That is spirituality at work, like this pure white, light-filled flower, in itself a perfect mandala.

Do you buy things that have a "best before" date that has passed? The product was still good yesterday..... but today it is no longer up to standard. How many of us buy it anyway at a lower price and figure it is still good, that we got a deal? I used to. Now I ask myself if it's not a better deal to let it go. If I didn't have it on my shopping list, I don't need it. "Enough is a feast" is a way to be self-sufficient. After the expiry date has passed, there is no guarantee of quality, no more refunds and maybe there is a risk to our health. Whoever made it says it isn't good anymore.

I was wondering if the expiry date is there to check out how "poor" we feel and to check out our values. A long time ago, I lived in the Alps and had employees from Sri Lanka. They were asylum seekers with nothing but a small bag of belongings. It was amazing to see how these people coped with the trauma they left behind and their new environment (by sticking together, having a dream for a better future, making music). One day I ordered fish from the local supplier. The Sri Lankans had a look at it and said they would not eat it. They were used to fish that had just left the water it lived in hours before. It took time to get the fish to where we lived, so maybe the freshness was pushing the expiry date. It was not good enough for the ("poor") asylum seekers but it good enough for us.

What is good enough and what is past the expiry date? I would like to investigate it in keeping with my intent to have spirituality as the main theme of my blog. In moments of doubt, I look for inspiration from Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, who said "It is difficult to be materialistic. All the important things in life cannot be bought". My other source of truth and wisdom is my very own Divine Bean (see my labels list).

Divine Bean says:
Dear Marlana, you can trust your instincts every time. Ask: is it good for me? Take only what is good for you. Don't worry about the last time or the next time. Right now tune in and trust the answer.

Thank you, thank you as always my Divine Bean!

Closing Down the Garden

Looking back through this summer's photo collection, I found these Bruxmanias, about to open. Their haunting pale lavender hue and their mysterious and exotic appearance fascinate me

That was July. Now it's time to pull the curtain. The show is over. Frost has determined the end of the blooming season. The once brightly colored maples and summacs are dropping their faded leaves. Today I am saying good-bye to all the daylilies that started off my blog adventure. They are put to sleep for the next seven months. I cut back all their foliage neatly and collected huge piles of compost. Isn't Nature brilliant?

This ritual of garden closure connects me to the Bigger Plan that insists itself on the lives of residents in this area. It is my choice to spend all year in a climate with extreme polarities and huge distances. It fits with my tendency to seek challenges and be part of what is happening instead of escaping into wishful thinking.

My latest challenge, thanks to the influence of Divine Bean, is my new full-time job. It sure makes a dent in the life of an avid blogger!....but I get a lot of satisfaction from this new lifestyle. My alarm goes off at 3:45 a.m. and I have a mission to fulfill. I belong to the world out there, creating my fortune with others. Every day is full of surprises and learning, a meaningful adventure, even if, believe me, it is a totally unglamorous activity! Sometimes I can sing mantras and do breathing exercises while my hands are busy. It's also wonderful to be home at 2:30 and have time to walk my dog and get some sunshine. I admit to the thrill of a paycheck, too, as fat as my pet man's. I'm also amazed at how much time I use to daydream, and dither and dawdle over trivialities. Thank you, Divine Bean!