Tonight is the total eclipse of the super flower blood moon, which is one of the most badass moon names (I think we can all agree). So get ready for a big ol' red moon bloom. (Also, mercury is (or just was) in retrograde (it's probably fine).)
And, yeah, you can livestream it. (Thanks, NASA!)
Oddly, the moon makes me think about gardening. (Thanks Farmer’s Almanac!)
Austin Kleon has been writing about gardening lately (and, along with Recommendo, has me wanting to propagate plants).
And Anil Dash has me thinking about how the garden of the internet (after a period of intense monocropping) is starting to get weird and wonderful again. (And lots of artists love their gardens.)
And we have a window sill filled with seedlings and sprouts that I planted with my daughter.
So all of this reading and watering and marveling has me thinking about seeds, which makes me think about beans (which is a subset? I guess?). Which reminds me of this piece I wrote a while back (pre-pandemic, so forever ago) about beans as batteries. Which can be extrapolated to all seeds.
A seed is a life storage mechanism, a life battery. The battery is activated either through planting or ingesting (if safe (and properly prepared (I don’t want to get sued))). Seeds are created by the plants they create (and (maybe) by the beings they satiate). Seeds can be self-replicating batteries of life. That’s pretty cool!
Planting seeds and growing plants and tending gardens can help bring us in tune with life’s inherent beauty. Which can help us have a meaningful life. Which is pretty cool!
And all it, usually, takes is a little extra care. A little effort. A little attentiveness. A little slowwwing down.
All good things.
(And, yes, this can be read as a metaphor. I’m really struggling to not go full Charlie Day with this.)
And, thus, we come to the bottom of the rabbbit hole. Plant a seed. Eat a bean. Touch a plant. Add an extra dash of care. And breathe.