While gardening

I am emptying my compost and burying giant glass bottles in my garden to start my lettuce seed early and I notice my back hurting, and then i notice my mind thinking/singing the same fucking song again.
All i can realize is that the act of this mind, so enticing, so easy to find oneself in, and so believable has to stop.
I look at the outcome my thoughts lead to and I realize that this makes no sense, these thoughts, they are not here, they are not of any kind of actual direction, they have no capacity for any kind of direction. I mean, here i am raking compost and my mind is missing someone and feeling sorry for itself ( what it wants me to believe that I am).
So, I reach and place the black earth in my hand, ( and meanwhile I have another thought about so and so not liking dirt ) and focus on what I want to get done with this garden. I have never tried to bury glass bottles with water, to warm in the March and April sun and keep the surrounding earth warm through the still cold nights. My violin bow maker showed me his garden last April and he already had 4 inch green beans growing. I understand that the Mayans irrigated their fields to warm to fields during frost. This is the same principle.
I have carried this with me today. To stop and direct my self.
My mind cannot tell me the future.
My emotions do not dictate how I feel.
My feelings and personality cannot and will not determine what action I take in the moment I need to focus and take a direction.
My breath, as my self will direct me.
So, all that “hovers” here I become one with, yet, as sound mind, direct my self as all as one as equal in the moment the need for direction arrives.

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About rebeccakarlendalmas

Desteni I Process Equal Life Foundation livingincome.me eqafe.com
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