With my dad's passing two weeks ago, time slowed down. Each day feels languid and somewhat surreal yet sweet and new all at the same time. We've been spending a lot of time planting and enjoying some bright pre-spring weather while taking care to experience all of our feelings and honor the stillness within.
Part of our daily Circle Time consists of a little ritual we call Creative Infinity. Our Creative Infinity is that place inside where the whole Universe lives. We imagine our heart beating and then see inside to the molecules, atoms, and quarks of which we're comprised.
"What's a quark made of, mama?"
"Energy. Everything is energy."
Maybe inside the tiniest particles are secret gateways into infinity. Maybe this is from where our ideas come. Maybe this is heaven.
When we're still, we can send our awareness down into our heart, into our Creative Infinity, and unite our intellect with our love. This is one of the guiding principles of our home education -- developing a wise heart.
My Creative Infinity has been very quiet lately. I suspect this is because, when my dad passed, my heart broke open so he could come in. I feel him there now and before we get back to the busyness of our regular lives, I wish to stay with the stillness a little longer.
Meanwhile, we are enjoying pre-spring sunshine and getting a head start on our garden. We've planted the snapdragons from my dad's service and we're working on a healing garden with Ayurvedic and other medicinal and culinary herbs. We've started a fairy garden with butterfly attracting blooms, planted peas in pots (and in an old tupperwear container that was collecting dust in the garage), we planted a few marigolds with hopes that we won't have any more frost -- but put them in pots just in case; and we're planning a salsa garden with tomatoes and peppers in a big wine barrel. I think we'll also do carrots and strawberries in a big wine barrel too.
Getting our hands in the soil reminds us of where we come from and to where we are going. Spending this quiet time together in the garden feels so right. Our innermost self is stillness, is pure awareness. When we rest in this stillness, we return home. It is here, in this sanctuary of our own hearts, that the world is restored and begins to bloom again.