Garden Work

[joe yang]

Years ago, more than I care to remember, my GM suggested working outdoors, at dawn, in my bare feet. He never mentioned it again, it was only adressed to me, privately in the first place. He was a product of rural, agrarian Korea, too sophisticated now and Western to aknowledge such roots today.

To the point, too old for such work, I spent a day salvaging 300lb slates from my front walk. The boro got a grant to redo the sidewalks in my "marginal" neighborhood. I grew up in this old Victorian house. It is modest, really not much, but the physical effort, the mental effort, the endless conection to the past. I feel as good as I ever felt after my best day training. Tell me meditation doesn't matter! Pass the Tiger Balm.

[joe yang]

I'm back out moving slates, building a patio. It will be under a maple tree, in my front yard, behind a screen of native mountain laurel and ferns. I'm drinking the first of last years dandelion wine. I just cracked open a 5 gallon caraboy. I'm planning a meditative space, screened from the street, with ground ivy, a jealousy fence, moss. I'm telling myself it is worth it, because I feel like I ruptured everything in my body at the cellular level. But hey, it's a beautiful day.