A Garden Story

I wrote this for a snail mail swap project with a theme of "writing about your garden." The photos were unwieldy for the email, so I've posted the letter here. Please note, if you want to see a bigger photo just click on it in the blog post. Also, I am in garden zone 9b (San Jose), meaning it rarely falls below freezing and provides a long growing season. It falls in the Heat Zones 7 or 8 (about 60 to 120 days of extreme heat per year). Because USDA zones do not account for coastal fog or ocean breezes, the specific UC Master Gardeners of Santa Clara County highly recommend checking the Sunset Climate Zones. San Jose is primarily Zone 14 or 15 (which accounts for the mild Mediterranean climate with marine air).

Dear PK and RR,

I joined this swap after reading the note of encouragement to do so, when it was made clear that having a Better Homes and Gardens quality garden was not required. 

I am, despite many years of aspiration, not a gardener. I'm the daughter of master gardeners who has made many attempts but lack the discipline to persist. At least when it comes to gardening. Below is a recent photo of my backyard. Typically in the summer drought it's brown (we don't water the grass, to conserve), and it grows hugely during rainy season. I mowed it once a few months ago after it was 3 feet tall, and drat, it grew again! A bout of illness prevented me from mowing again. Here is what it looked like until last weekend. We had several volunteer trees that had grown by the orange tree, and weeds taller than my husband on the side yard. (My husband has for years taken care of the front yard in an effort to not be a blight on the neighborhood, but he has no love for gardening either.)

It made a wonderful little meadow for many birds and lizards, but the grass that grows produces seeds with needle-tip points that catch on clothes. Ouch! Our visitors include raccoons, opossums, rats, squirrels, and neighborhood cats. Birds in my yard include Mourning Dove, Western Screech Owl, Great Horned Owl, Anna's Hummingbird, American Crow, Northern Mockingbird, Cedar Waxwing, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Bewick's Wren, Dark-eyed Junco, California Towhee, House Sparrow, House Finch, and Brown-headed Cowbird. 

However, on June 4 (my son's high school graduation day), we had an auspicious visitor using our yard as a day spa -- a California gray fox! We live near the foothills of the Santa Cruz mountains and wildlife is only about 1 mile away. In all 16 years of living in this house, this is the first time a fox visited. 

He or she lounged in the yard about an hour. I've heard it said the foxes are dog hardware that runs on cat software. I hadn't known until that day that they (gray foxes) can climb trees and fences, as their wrists rotate!

Anyhow, I finally broke down and hired someone to come out and clean up the yard, and I will have him come routinely from now on to mow and blow. Here's what it looks like now and what was dragged to the street. And hope rises eternally in me. I can feel my aspirational gardener thinking, "Now that we've hired someone do maintain it and to help with special projects like mulching, trimming, and managing the sprinkler system, I might tend to it more..."

Even though I'm a crap gardener, I do appreciate flowers. Below are some photos I took of flowers in my parents' garden in past years. They are no longer alive, and I like to think their energy is now flowing into all growing things. 

My parents had many decorative signs in their garden. One was a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson from the poem Hamatreya, "The earth laughs in flowers." The other sign was a stanza from a poem by Dorothy Frances Gurney: 

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.

Wishing you a vibrant Litha and a joyous summer season!

Warmly,

MindfulOne/Kathryn

The Ogre and the Girl Who Nevertheless Persisted

From an exercise in Your Life As Story, Chapter 3: My Fairytale and Letter

The Ogre and the Girl Who Nevertheless Persisted

Once upon a time there was a girl who was born to an old-fashioned father in an era of feminism. Growing up she displayed aptitude for language and writing and did well academically. However, there were problems: she was raised in the Catholic church, in which females did not have a prominent role. She was drawn to religion even as a young child, but as she grew up her perception of God was shaped by her view of her father. Another problem was her parents’ perception of her ability, especially her father’s. She expressed interest in becoming a teacher; he negated it, saying there was a glut of teachers. She said she wanted to be a writer, a journalist, but was told she wasn't competitive enough to succeed. She revealed a desire to be a psychologist but was told she was too emotional. Because she could not declare without hesitation exactly what she wanted to do with her life that fell outside these three interests, because he was conservative and would not support her in pursuit of a liberal arts education, and because he had the money, she adjusted her educational goals to suit him.

In high school she became involved in a teen Catholic prayer group. She became a vocal, “born again” Christian, a role which defined her life for four years. She lived in dread of making mistakes. Her parents were experiencing relationship problems, notably her father launching into rages at her mother. The girl felt it was all because of her not being good enough, so she tried even harder to be good and perfect. Because of her eldest sister’s departure from college after one year, he would not allow her to go away to school. She received supportive feedback from teachers about her intellect, but felt there was no point because since age 12 her father told her he wouldn’t let her go away to school. Because of her second-eldest sister’s reneging on a parental loan for a car, he would not allow her to get her driver’s license while she lived under his roof. Her life was bound in negatives. In 1981 she applied to the community college under one major, human services; her father repeatedly told her she would only end up working in a welfare office, which sounded depressing. So before school started she switched to food service management, thinking it would at least provide a creative outlet. She quickly learned that cooking was not her passion and changed to business administration. She was miserable. She felt underused, dissatisfied, not academically challenged in any way. She had to take the bus two hours each way daily, or scrabble rides from classmates. After one year, she recognized the waste of time and money involved, and she told her father she would withdraw and seek work.

One week after informing him of her decision, he asked her if she’d gotten a job yet. She replied she had not, and he assumed she hadn’t been looking. He flew into a tirade about how he would not permit her to leech off of him. He stated she would have to start paying rent at $100 a month plus her own groceries. Shortly after, she found a job as a dental assistant that paid a low wage; she could not afford to move out of her parents’ house. After eight months the dentist decided to take a seven week vacation and laid her off. She quit (she needed income) and searched for another job. In 1983, desperate to become competitive in the job market, she entered a business school to pursue a degree in secretarial studies. She didn’t want to, but again, financial aid depended on her father, who only supported practical, clerical subjects for her; the government required he report his income to assess aid, and he resisted. She pushed and he relented, and she ended up borrowing $5,000 to fund this. The school was a diploma mill, not totally legitimate, and again, she loathed the classes. After six months she quit and, using the money from the loan, moved out on her own. She then got a job as a secretary at Syracuse University in 1984. It was an awful job, where the Dean of Students required females to wear skirts and dresses only, where she was given menial tasks and was rebuked for wanting to take on more work. She spent many hours looking busy, which exhausted her. 

Still unsure of what she wanted to study, and struggling with her sense of self and place in life, she meandered through the days. She had remitted tuition benefits, but she started courses and dropped them. After a year, she transferred to a job at the university library, where she immersed herself in reading and books. Her job bored her, and she barely made ends meet. However, she at least could wear jeans and casual clothes and spend many hours getting paid to read and research, which she did love. Gradually she became more serious about her education, and she grew stronger in her sense of ownership over her own life. She took courses she enjoyed and recognized the spark of intelligence within her. She decided in her mid-20s to study psychology, despite what her father would think. She knew it wouldn’t guarantee a job, but she also knew she had skills to at least feed herself. She wanted to study what she loved, a subject that engaged her and made her think. And despite the fact she’d lived on her own for over five years, she felt compelled to explain her decision in a letter to her father. She also wanted to go away to college and have the typical college experience.

In 1989, she applied to a couple of state colleges and was accepted. However, she had no savings. She would have to borrow student loans, but she didn’t know if that would be enough. Her father offered to provide some funding, a loan of $8,000, to be paid upon graduation. The conditions of the loan stated she could not marry, get pregnant, buy a vehicle, or take a vacation while in school, and that she would work temp jobs on her breaks. The arrangement of the loan filled her with foreboding, which she expressed to her mother. Her mother’s response was that if she really wanted the education, to swallow her pride and sign the contract. She did, with reluctance. Off she went, and she did well her first semester. In her second semester, concerned about the amount she borrowed and her father’s implied timeframe for repayment (within five years of graduation), she attempted to adjust her course load so she could graduate sooner. She and her brother were both home for spring break. Her proposal violated her father’s sense of the contract she had signed and was met with his rage and refusal; he grilled her about her expenditures. He behaved as in the past, like a despot. During this encounter, she had an epiphany. At age 26, he was still treating her as if she were 8, and he acted as though he owned her. He said ugly things to her about being a failure, a quitter, and not being his daughter, and he lunged toward her. His emotions were so apoplectic that her brother had to physically intervene to keep their father from reaching her. She decided that her dignity and autonomy were more valuable to her than an education, and she left his house. She finished out the semester (spring 1990) by living with a friend and commuting to the college (100 miles round trip in a borrowed vehicle) and returned to her library job with one year of credits left to earn.

Shortly after leaving, she received a memo from her father through her mother. In this she learned that her father had intended to forgive the entire debt upon her graduation (a decision he declined to share because he thought knowing would make her squander the opportunity), that he wanted the house-key returned, and that he did not want to see or have any contact with her until he decided he wanted it. This was cold, but typical of him. The woman just decided to let go of the desire for a college degree for awhile. She was very, very depressed, more so than she had ever been. Too much was in flux in her life; she didn’t even have a place to live. So she focused on acquiring the basics, on regaining stability, so she could rest and reassess the situation. She sorely needed a means of reliable transportation, and she needed money to pay for classes that the college required she take on campus.

In spring of 1991, she managed to find a deal on a new little car and arranged the loan. This was freedom! Her world opened. With this exhilarating change she felt renewed. She spoke to her boss about changing her work schedule to accommodate the classes she would need to take during the day. Her boss supported this; the endeavor would demand much of her, in that she would work in the morning, commute 100 miles in the afternoon for class, and finish her job in the evening. But it was possible, and she embraced this. In the summer of 1991 she took classes at Oswego, and coursework in the fall at both campuses. In spring of 1992 she took more courses at the university where she worked to transfer to the Oswego. Exhausted but nearly finished, she plowed through more summer and fall courses, and finished her studies in December 1992. Her goal had been to get her B.A. by the day she turned 30. Her birthday was June 24, 1993; she garnered her achievement six months ahead of that deadline. After ten years of hard work and struggle to overcome emotional, financial, and academic obstacles, our heroine prevailed. With the degree that society claimed was necessary to find advanced work, she could move ahead.
-----------------
My dear child,
I know I started parenthood quite late in life, and it is my hope that I gained some wisdom to share by waiting. My life was not problem-free growing up; nor was my early adulthood easy. I had to fight for my opportunities. Lacking money and moral support, I spent many years confusedly searching for my path. Sometimes I am wistful, wondering what else I might have accomplished had my life been different, but this is a waste of time. Besides, there is a central message here, in my life: persevere. No matter that your dream is scoffed at, or that you fear you lack the ability. If your heart whispers to you about what you love, if you harbor a dream, believe in it. And then do all you can to manifest this dream, keeping it in sight as life takes you hither and yon. As long as you hold this dream and nurture it, it will grow. It may not flourish all the time, but it will grow. As I look back on my life, this is one clear lesson it taught me.

Tend Your Fire

Your inner landscape is a forest that has grown for six decades.

Very little new can grow, and it makes sense that you can't figure 

out which way to go. Everything is overgrown,

tangled, and dense. Nothing can move through it.

All this growth is the result of living your life in the context of your parents' lives,

and their experiences influenced how they parented. Your forest holds all of 

their trauma, which was untreated.

Yes. They did the best they could. And in many ways they did a great job.

But in raising you they implicitly handed you their emotional undergrowth.

And they were also a generation of savers and holders; possessions

held meaning and create attachment. This generation feels that objects have 

great value, which is simply one worldview -- not an absolute Truth. 

This has been your reality; it's the element in which 

you grew up. So of course you haven't really seen this.

It's been your normal.

You built a life within that emotional structure and

created as meaningful a life as possible, and it's been a

good life. When you transitioned from career to retirement,

the structure fell away, and now you are noticing how

stifled your soul feels.

Maybe you don't need to burn it all down.

But controlled burns could be useful.

To start a fire you need a spark.

Somewhere within you there is a hot spot, a few embers

that have quietly burned your entire life.

It is the mystery of consciousness when it is embodied.

As long as our bodies are alive, it exists.

So why has it not ignited all the overgrowth yet? 

It's buried so deeply in your subconscious,

like the underground coal fire in an abandoned mine

in Centralia, Pennsylvania, which has burned 

since 1962.

Your equanimity about your parents doing

the best they could is the dense earth,

weighed by gravity, covering your buried fire.

You have a gentle temperament with a compassionate 

streak. It's a gift. And yet any trait in excess creates

challenges. This is yours.

Your work is to uncover your embers, let

air in, rearrange the fuel, and allow ignition.

Fire is amazing. It can be destructive when unconfined, 

but it can warm us, give light, keep us alive. We get 

to have s'mores with them. Tend your fire.

-Kathryn Harper

A Contemplation

A Contemplation

My body is no longer my own. It contains a
sprout like a fiddlehead fern frond, curled
inward on itself.

Microscopic cells mystically multiply
with fervor, their intention known only
to themselves.

While I breathe, while I sleep, whether
I churn like a river or remain a placid lake,
this body has

Its own mission. Summer is coming.

-Kathryn Harper

How I Spent Today

I spent part of today participating in the online volunteering with Action for Happiness. 

Originally I was seeking community, a group to visit and participate in locally in person. And perhaps I will find this. However, there are no groups associated with this organization in the western United States, so I figured I'd take the free training and see what develops. 

The training was easy and the concepts are simple. As with much wisdom, simple does not equate with low-effort. Experiencing joy on the regular is a practice; it only develops with continuous effort. 

AFH organizes itself around ten key points that form an acronym: GREAT DREAM. Attending to these keys contribute to one's own happiness as well as that of others. Additionally, not doing harm is a potent contribution to well-being. 

Giving: doing kind things for others

These acts can be small! The driver who is trying to merge into your lane? Let her. Look at the clerk as he rings up your purchase and say hello sincerely. Not adding to unhappiness also counts; if you're tempted to flip someone off because they did something thoughtless, take a breath and let it go.

   

Relating: connect with other people

We live in a digital world, and we've succumbed to the idea that social media is truly connection. To an extent it does provide connection, but in a limited way. We need to share space with others, to speak to people in person, or on the phone in real time engagement. We've got to leave our safe little caves where we watch the shadows on the wall and call that interaction, and take a little risk to participate in the three dimensional world.

 

Exercising: take care of your body

One thing I have discovered in the past three years is that my body -- and yours -- needs to move. And it deserves to move and feel good, even if it's not in great shape or sized according to cultural standards. In August 2022 I realized I was on a bad trajectory with what I ate, how I moved, and the weight I carried. I was in pain, and I knew that the extra weight would create more health problems as I age. So I began to move -- short stints of strength training -- to get strong. Only after I became a bit stronger did I begin to change how I ate. I knew I had to figure out how to eat to drop weight but in a way that didn't make me rebel and drop out. What worked for me was accepting that I need to record what I eat diligently; I can eat whatever I want, but I need to be honest with myself. This enabled me to better understand my energy needs. Three years later, I've dropped 77 pounds. I'm technically still overweight, but it's a whole new life. Exercise makes me feel centered, and sometimes it makes me feel awesome. You deserve to move!

 

Awareness: live mindfully

This buzzword, along with "zen", has permeated culture for the past couple of decades, but what does it really mean? For me, it means pausing, breathing, experiencing my senses, even if for one minute. It means staying off my phone while I eat and actually savoring the food. To listen to the sounds of my neighborhood. To take a break from my buzzing thoughts.

 

Trying Out: keep learning new things

Anything new! A recipe. A hobby. Read a new genre of book. Try a puzzle. Explore Duolingo. Learning keeps us vital. A curious mind prevents boredom.  

 

Direction: have goals to look forward to

What would you like to accomplish or change in your life? It could be a big goal. These are best approached in smaller stages. Or your goal could be to take a vacation, try a new cuisine, or go to bed a bit more regularly for better sleep. 

 

Resilience: find ways to bounce back 

This can be hard. We are evolutionarily designed to look for danger, to be cautious, which can result in seeing threat everywhere, feeling competitive, and judging oneself harshly for falling short. There is one person who will be with you and never leave you: yourself. Our life work is to learn to be our own friend and loving parent to ourselves, even if we did not receive ideal parenting. To try and if we fail, to say, "It's okay. Learning takes effort. I'm allowed to be imperfect and grow." 

 

Emotions: look for what's good

Again, we can get caught in negative assessments and stories of ourselves and others, and of the world. I'm not suggesting you be toxically positive and to ignore feelings such as sadness, disappointment, or anger. I'm asking you not to shortchange yourself by dismissing the good. If you are temperamentally more pessimistic, as I am, this will take effort. In my effort to be "an informed citizen" I find myself doomscrolling the news, but that brings me down. And it helps no one. So I balance this by turning my attention to appreciating the good as much as I can. 

 

Acceptance: be comfortable with who you are

This is a life project. It's connected to resilience. To accept that it's all right to make mistakes, to mess up -- it's a fact of being alive. What matters is learning, and learning to repair when needed. It's knowing some things about yourself that you like, and knowing your strengths, as well as knowing the areas you would like to change or need to improve, and being reasonable with your self-assessment. 

 

Meaning: be part of something bigger

We are not just here for our own satisfaction and gain. We need each other. Humans seek and create meaning in their lives. We are already part of something bigger. This understanding has the potential to make one feel insignificant, but it also means that we belong in the natural order of things. Someone asked me recently what I love about myself. My answer was: "That "I" am a universe of systems and life forms existing in a larger universe of life forms in this mystery." My body is made of cells, systems (skeletal, muscular, vascular, etc.) and bacteria populate it everywhere. All of it contributes to my existence. In turn, I am part of a family, a city, a state, a country, a culture, the human race, the world, the universe. I interact with all of it and have impact. I matter. So do you.

Perhaps you'd like to join me?

This Year's Intentions

I took this photo at Maker Faire last fall. It's difficult to explain what this was, but people were invited to enter into this space of whirling light. It depicts how time feels to me. Soon enough we'll say good-bye to 2026. Here is what I aim for in my life practice.

Daily

• I will continue to meditate daily for five minutes; it's the holy pause, and even brief episodes have a positive impact.
• Each day I walk, at a minimum, 2,000 steps; given my sedentary job and life, it stuns me how few steps I could take if I don't make the effort. Last year my average was 4,835 steps (2.28 miles per day).
• Read a book -- it requires deep attention.

Weekly

• Make art. It can be small, quick, and simple. Or it can be elaborate.
• Seek and invite spending time with my child, who is leaving in eight months.
• Date night with Hub; this has vastly improved our connection in the past several years.
• See clients -- my work, which I really enjoy.
• Exercise four to five times a week, including strength training.
• Write one blog entry.

Monthly

• See friends!
• Go on side quests with Hub.
• Attend Open Studio with friends.

Yearly

• Improve overall physical fitness, including shedding more weight.
• Read at least 30 books.
• Travel with Hub on a couple of trips.
• Get my child moved to college.
• Explore and create new community.
• Attend a few Ecstatic Dances.

Throughout the year I will check in with myself to ensure I'm attending to these small projects that help me to live richly. 

Poem: A Therapy Hour

As a therapist, this reads true. It's not a script. For me, the poem evokes the essence of being a therapist, meeting whatever the client brings, staying present and authentic. Of course therapy also involves deeper responses, examinations of beliefs and thought patterns, skill practice.

Click to enlarge for better reading.

Emotional Education

Knowing Experience

"Because here's something that's weird but true: we don't actually know what a positive or negative experience is. Some of the most difficult and stressful moments of our lives also end up being the most formative and motivating. Some of the best and most gratifying experiences of our lives are also the most distracting and demotivating. Don't trust your conception of positive/negative experiences. All that we know for certain is what hurts in the moment and what doesn't. And that's not worth much."

--Mark Manson