Dangerous Compassions

weeding, not weeding

Today Erik and I pulled some weeds at Vedanta early in the morning. We worked on the area right up front, where people walk, because there’s a retreat coming up on Saturday, and lots of visitors will be here from out of town. There’s a desire to make everything pretty.

Then we came home so Erik could get ready to go hiking and I could get ready for my dentist appointment, a cleaning, which was fine….

Then I went back to Vedanta to work on the Shiva mound. There were some baby trees growing where they didn’t belong, so I ripped them out. It was hard work, but it was very satisfying to see the job from start to finish.

I ran into Swami in the garden near the lotus pond. We spoke–I was standing on one side of the pond, and he was standing on the other. He asked what work I had been doing.

I said, “There were some plants they didn’t belong, and I was getting rid of them.”

He said, “Oh, weeding.”

I said, “No, they were big.” To me, weeding would be small plants. These were a meter high with woody stems.

All day since, I’ve been remembering this conversation and feeling my gums ache from the cleaning.

This afternoon I’ve written two letters, napped, washed the dishes. I suppose I’ll start dinner now.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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