What would it feel like if there were no problem to solve? I’ve been meditating with this question for a couple of days. I know there are plenty of problems to solve, big and little problems, from what’s for lunch to how we save the planet. There’s a huge problem with the regime dismantling democracy, decimating government services, and demolishing the middle class. which would be great to solve and we’re working at it. Millions of Americans! But way too many millions more simply have their fingers in their ears, heads in the sand, eyes closed to reality. We need to amplify the truth at every opportunity.
There’s a big one coming up on June 14. But before that, there’s a massive threat to every American who is not a billionaire, and that’s most of us, in this “big beautiful budget bill” being voted on imminently. Make some noise! Medicaid is on the line, along with countless other programs that benefit most Americans. Our local healthcare system, Delta Health, could be gutted, along with most rural hospitals in the country. Learn more anywhere anyone is telling the truth, and Jessica Craven’s daily newsletter, Chop Wood Carry Water, is a great place to start. This bill is savage and wrong. So yeah, there are problems to be solved.
But what if, just for fifteen or thirty minutes each day, you could restore your nervous system with a deep, conscious rest during which, just for that short time, you could let your mind quit trying to solve problems? It’s been helping me.
Today is a perfect of example of how practicing this effortless mindfulness helped me sustain inner peace. After discovering freeze damage in the garden, I rushed off this morning for a ten a.m. appointment the provider had scheduled for noon; I let it go, did some other errands first, and came back later. Great news from Phil’s: the collaborative car fix last week is sufficient! But it was one glitch after another besides that, a couple of long delays, a couple of places closed on Tuesday; and, while taking the scenic route because I had time, a traffic jam. I kept my sense of ease, humor, and patience through it all. Just a day unfolding instead of a series of problems to solve.
Along the way we stopped at the town park so Wren could stretch her legs, and I looked for the stumps. A couple of huge trees had recently been cut for safety reasons. I know the guys who did the job, and admired the clean flat surface they left behind. I recalled one of them telling me how they got harassed while they were making the park safer. Later I counted the rings as best I could from the photo and was not surprised to pass one hundred.
Even so, I was sure grateful to get home to my little sanctuary. I had food in the fridge for lunch, repaired hearing aids, a new library book, a morning’s adventures with my values intact to reflect upon, a good zoom meeting, and a pond full of frogs to relax with.
When the day’s work was done, I decanted the lilac cordial. It fizzed a lot when I opened the jar and poured, but then it settled down.
I’m sorry to report that it tasted primarily of weak honey. Lilacs, lacking any essential oil, are notoriously challenging to preserve. I suppose there’s a faint floral note, and it was light and refreshing on ice. And it sure looked lovely in the late evening sun.
