Growing A Bodhi Tree

I brought home, from Sri Lanka, the sprout on the top. When it was about a foot tall in this blue pot, I transplanted it to a full sized garbage can with wheels. It has grown to just over 5 feet tall since I planted it in the beginning of April. 

The garbage can has holes bored in the bottom and sides. First there is a layer of rock, then sand, then black cow, then  Miracle Grow potting soil which is aerated with tiny styrofoam balls. I planted the Bodhi tree in this because it does not tolerate less than 40 F. I knew I would have to move it to a warmer place now and then during the  December- March cold spells. 

I hope that this April, I can plant it in the ground so it will grow during the summer and be acclimated to the cold next winter, given protecting the roots and trunk during those periods. 

I visited the original Bodhi tree in Bodhgaya, India last March.  It stands many stories tall and has golden posts supporting it. There it stands, probably replaced several times over the centuries, representing Siddhartha the Buddha's enlightenment moment. 

I also visited a memorial park which is the site of one of the Buddha's monasteries. It was built by his father, the King, who wanted him to be nearby to advise his brother who inherited the kingdom. In this memorial park is another Bodhi tree called Ananda's Bodhi tree. It probably has been replaced several times over the centuries. It represents a time when all the Bodhi trees died and more were brought from Sri Lanka. This one was planted to see if the other  seedlings would live. It, as well, is supported by golden pillars.  Around the tree were many different groups of pilgrims, chanting many different chants at the same time.  I was overwhelmed with the presence of such power.

the Bodhi tree has lasted through the cold  days of the winter because I wheeled it under the house to keep it from the freezing temperatures. Now it has grown as high as the ceiling of its protective cover. Hopefully, the dangerously cold days have passed. Bodhi sits under the stars again and seems to be thriving. I speak to it every day and hold a few of its leaves in a healing pose of my hands.  I will plant it in a place which will be protective from high winds (in case of a hurricane) and build a shelter frame ready to protect it from the next cold spell of winter. 

Here in Florida, where I and the Bodhi live, is not really tropical nor is it prone to long freezes.  But, like other places where climate change  is effecting the environment, predicting the course of the weather is not really possible. 

Growing a Bodhi tree is much like raising a child, and definitely like caring for a pet. Like all my trees, attention to its health and nurturing its ability to keep on growing is of the essence in its care. When I have those occasional moments of feeling as if I have no purpose and of little to offer, I ned only to return to this journey of my Boshi tree in my life, to know otherwise.

The Bodhi tree is but a metaphor of caring for the earth and its many forms of life. "All The Earth Belongs To All", as a song puts it, is "The Vision And The Call".  We are all responsible for responding to the crisis of the health of our Earth. 

While I choose reverence for life, the Bodhi tree, under which the Buddhi was finally enlightened, is my symbol of this responsibility which I have chosen. 

To what and where is it you have been called to care?  What is your vision of the purpose of this caring?

A Healing Perspective

Taken b  y Kurt Rolfes in one of the Buddha's gardens during our pilgrimage in India.

In my previous blog entry, I wrote the interpretation of a life experience from a psychoanalytic perspective.  This was just the beginning of a healing process. I consider this first step an awareness of suffering of all the agents involved in a traumatic experience. But, it is not a deep empathic understanding of my own suffering or the suffering of the others involved.

I have to say that rereading that last blog, my response is "So what, Has anything really changed?"  The answer is, "No". I still have resentment and so does everyone else.  The reasons for the resentment are displaced, not yet named, and therefore, not really in a position to  release it all to its highest good.

I might say, the mindfulness phase of processing grief is accomplished and half the data has been collected. Now,  in order for the healing to continue, the Soul now creates the dance.

No one person is to be blamed. No one circumstance can be blamed. No one action can be blamed.  The whole thing happened because all  our unique histories of living came to a place where the inevitable occurred. There were no other options, given the ability of all involved to function under the circumstances.

Things happen because they happen. People respond the way they do because that is who they are at that time. Outcomes are the outcomes they are because that is the way the course of history went. We all did what we did, said what we said, felt what we felt at the time. Dust settled, and here we all are. The past cannot be changed, nor does it have any reason to do so. It is what it is.

So here we are. I don't know where the rest of them are at with all  this, but that is not my responsibility.. I have only myself to heal, so what does this mean for me?

I dive deep within my heart and ask the Divine Wisdom, which abides at Heart's Center, "How do I proceed?".

From this perspective, I learn the lesson the trauma and its accompanying events have taught me. I envision how I will conduct myself from this moment onward, determined to live as a free agent, mindful of the effect of my actions on others. I embrace the resentment I still carry and release its power over me.  I acknowledge my hypersensitive intuition and direct it toward understanding that  I am not here to control how others behave, only how I dance the healing dance.

The next time I met face to face with those I was holding this grudge, I greeted each with an open heart. It was an opportunity for each to either also let the past go and embrace the peaceful coexistence of this encounter OR continue judging me for not fitting their image of what they would have me be.  Both happened.

The difference is, that  whether the response was collegial or adversarial, it did not affect my decision to be alive and happy to be so right now.

I am so grateful for all that is. Life is a miracle and so is each person alive today.  I choose to bow to the gift within each encounter.

When has acknowledging your own suffering and embracing its gift, been like beholding the abundant beauty of a rose that you have planted in your own garden?