Meditation on the morning of Rosh Ha Shana
Patience. For weeks, the broad-leafed vine climbed the fence, inch by inch in silence and dark greens. All summer long, she carried her treasure in whispers and stealth. Till now, that is. I wake today, to find gaggles of tender blue Morning Glories. The crowning jewels of the garden…and the season. Muted, lovely and understanding, they send me into the autumn with equanimity. On Rosh Ha Shana.
Freedom. You don’t have to believe everything you think.