I plant seeds and tidy the greenhouse
as three slow worms bask peacefully
in the sun.
I love slow worms, and it makes me so happy to know that I share my garden with them. They look like little copper coloured snakes, but are actually legless lizards. One lives in the raspberry bed, one in a hole in the patio and one in the wall near the woodshed. There are probably more, I just haven’t spotted them yet.
My garden,
like much of my life,
a little scruffy,
a little rough around the edges,
beautiful to my eyes
but perhaps not everyone’s
cup of tea.
Today I watched
a queen red-tailed bumblebee
dusted in golden pollen
feasting on a dandelion,
mother of next summer’s bees
sustained by my laziness,
my dislike of weeding.
Perfection may ensnare us
but it is a sterile thing,
there is treasure
to be found
in the wild,
in the untamed,
at the rough edges of life.
I walked, insignificant beneath
giant eucalyptus,
peeling bark hanging in strings,
revealing subtle pinks,
oranges, greys.
Through tree fern gullys, tracery of
fronds filtering the sun,
shady green, dappled.
And everywhere, birds flitted,
colourful, exotic to my eyes.
The parched fallen gum leaves
crackled beneath my feet.
I was almost, but not quite, lost,
weary after hours of walking,
but now heading in the direction
of home.
My head was full of colours and sounds,
the smell of eucalyptus
welcome in my nostrils.
And then, a familiar call,
a stirring in the trees ahead,
the sense of being watched
a glimpse of movement,
and suddenly I was surrounded
by black cockatoos.
I stopped in wonder,
in awe.
I must have spent an hour
watching, camera clicking
while they chatted and pecked
and clambered around the branches.
They knew I was there.
They didn’t care.
I was the one who was
blessed by our meeting.
‘I want to write a poem’
never works for me.
I have to wait.
I have to go to the places
where inspiration lies.
Sometimes I glimpse it
quietly sleeping
in a grey sky full of rain,
or shouting for attention
through the flowers and birds.
Sometimes I glimpse it
within myself
and I have to be quiet enough to hear it.
A blog post from a writer I admire
sparks a train of thought,
or I glimpse an old quote in
a book, inspiration travelling
across time and space.
Or I walk.
Usually I just walk,
and the world nudges me
into attention.
The song thrush
shouts his delight
at the lengthening days.
A hailstorm engulfed the woods.
I walked, partially sheltered by
the bare branches,
cocooned, warm in my coat as
the hailstones drummed on my head.
It passed over, the last balls of ice
bounced off my hair as
I put my hood down.
I emerged into sunshine,
a cool fresh breeze,
and contentment.
You can always find contentment if you walk far enough!
These gentle beams
which bathe my skin
touched the cold rock of the moon
moments before they touched me.
I sit in wonder
intimately connected
to the universe.
Imagine turning certainty and judgment into wondering, into curiosity. How then would you see this world?
I joined a really interesting coach training course this week, all about releasing judgment.
I thought it would be a good one for me to do, because sometimes I can be very judgemental. The current political climate does not bring out the best in me!
It is so easy to slip into a judging mind-set, comfortable even. It means I don’t have to think, to put myself into another’s shoes, to feel the discomfort of acknowledging that maybe someone else’s opinions are just as valid as mine. To assume that I know why they say what they say, why they do what they do.
And then there are self-judgment, comparison, self-criticism. For as much as I judge other people I also judge myself, and my work.
Two things really struck me:
Instead of comparing myself with others, how about looking back at how I was at a point in the past, or how I would like to be in the future? So instead of looking at the blogger with thousands of followers and feeling discouraged, not good enough, I look back to a year ago when I had less than 10 followers and I realise how far I’ve come. Or I imagine a future where lots of people read my blog and I work out how to get to that point and then take the steps to get there.
Instead of thinking I know why something is as it is, I could be open and curious instead.
Ultimately, judging is just part of being human. I can just notice that I am doing it and let it go. Another one of those under the category ‘simple but not easy’!
What do you think? Do you have any tips for releasing judgement?
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The evening light fades
without effort
Yet I must practice daily
doing
without doing.
I hear them before
I see them.
Balls of energy
twitter,
flitter,
and suddenly
the tree is full
of a tumble
of long tailed tits.
Life in the Fresh Air 