The first Tabasco pepper ripens. I’m optimistic that most of the remaining peppers will ripen before the first frost, but it’s getting dicey.

It’s a bit challenging to be grateful that my friends and family seem to have escaped the worst of Hurricane Ian, though the fate of my brother’s house in Naples remains to be determined, and Charleston cousins await the second landfall. Of course I’m grateful for the safety of my beloveds, but this catastrophe really hammers home our interconnectedness on this planet: the destruction of so much habitat, humans’ and other species alike, affects us all. As I experience relief, many thousands of others grieve their losses; and many non-human sentient beings have lost their lives or homes as well. This is a spiritual conundrum that requires strength, courage, and equanimity to be able to hold awareness of both the horrors and losses, as well as gratitude for the joys and blessings, of life in the Anthropocene.

In this peaceable kingdom, in this peaceful moment, all is well in this moment.
Both ends of a rainbow that disappeared in dense clouds above…
…with aspens on Mendicant Ridge all gloried up.

3 thoughts on “Equanimity

  1. Lovely post, it’s important to hear that others struggle with the challenge of holding in our hearts both gratitude and sorrow. I think there’s a visual metaphor with the rainbows emerging from the clouds. The photos, as always, are wonderful. Love Wren and the fawn, and the double rainbow!

    • Thanks, Sandra. My photos pale in comparison to yours! But I have equanimity and so don’t make unhelpful comparisons 😂 And I also have empathetic joy, and am celebrating your marvelous, art-filled, color-taste-and-texture filled journey in Europe.

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