I am focusing on making things quiet in my life. I need quiet and peace. I’m sleeping, reading, and writing. I’m window shopping, I’m cooking, I’m tasting. I’m watching television, which is arguably noisy but kind of a quiet activity because _I_ do not make a sound while I watch television. But of all the quiet things, I am embracing spending time my vegetable/herb garden the most these days.
Each day I look out the window to my garden and find growth–sprouts that have broken through the soil in germination, and sprouts that have grown a centimeter overnight. Or transplants that have somehow grown taller and more robust, through the day, through the night, through time, in silence. I put on my shoes and kneel in the dirt, in silence, hands feeling the warm and damp earth, thinning out the seedlings, giving the plants room to grow.
Thoughts spin through my head–satisfactory thoughts evaluating the growth and color of the plants, imagining the future filled with herbs and vegetables. What will I make with the eggplant? What beverage concoction with the anise hyssop? Or maybe an anise hyssop ice cream? All the tarragon cream sauces! Oh–mint lemonade, perilla leaf tempura, chamomile tea, sorrel soup! All in silent reverie, a truly joyful place to be these days.
I am carving out a place of peace.
I am carving out time to explore and to digest all that has occurred.