Just an empty mind... that's it. Focus on a single point and let the thoughts just vanish. The principle stays the same everywhere; it’s really just about how you handle the technical side of things.
Basically, the transition into fall and winter kicked off with a full-blown ritual in my kitchen. 😁 God knows what possessed 😈 me yesterday, but I clocked a record-breaking 12 hours at the stove. Maybe it’s because it’s getting a little chilly out—too early to crank the heat, obviously—and hanging out by the range is one of the best ways to stay warm. Or maybe those blackberries were just acting up. Or both. Or maybe there's a third reason: a sudden, primal urge to stockpile hazelnuts for the winter. 😁
Whatever the reason, the end result is blackberry and cherry jam. Honestly, I prefer jams over preserves; first off, they're less work, and second, nothing beats having actual chunks of fruit in there.
Jellies are a different story entirely; the quince one is probably my favorite—especially paired with a soft-boiled egg, toast, and butter. Real butter. Not margarine. But the quince will have to wait until the first frost hits.
Those unlucky blackberries from earlier? I picked them up way back in early July for next to nothing. There’s a little trick to it: I always hit the farmers market around 2 PM. The selection might be thin by then, but people sell stuff for peanuts—seriously, I almost felt bad taking it. My Godmother is always in a rush to get home and doesn't want to haul unsold produce back with her.
And those same blackberries were originally meant for one specific cake. By some stroke of luck, that cake never actually materialized—days passed, and nothing. Then it hit me: forget the cake, let's just turn them into jam! At least this way, the enjoyment lasts longer (which is the most important part). 😁😉
I know, I know—it's a sin to thaw fruit just to cook it, but sometimes things just need time to "ripen." While I was pitting cherries (for the other jam), I found myself thinking about Indians. They never wrote anything down. Unlike us, where we document every single word, get it notarized, and then usually go and break our word anyway, they gave their promises and vows orally—and they actually kept them.
What do Indians have to do with all this? Recipes. Seriously. Sometimes I cling to recipes like a drunk clings to a fence. Usually, when I'm rushing or skimming, I miss an essential ingredient, and I end up having to pull the dough out of the oven because I totally forgot to add the butter. 😁
That would never happen to Indians. Since they didn't rely on written documents, they had to master the art of oral storytelling, passing down details with intense concentration. So, I started connecting the dots in my recipes; instead of blindly following instructions, I started observing what I was doing and *why*. In that moment, I felt this culinary "liberation"—not just being present in the moment, but opening the door to improvisation.
Maybe this sounds trivial and you're all thinking: "Good morning, Paul Campbell3! We seasoned spiritualists have known this for ages." Well, good for you, then! 😉
But truly, looking at these eight happy jars of cherry and blackberry jam, I can't help but wonder how much we are actually conscious of things, and how much we just *think* we are. Second thought: how easily we make promises and give our word, and how little we stick to them if it isn't "official" on paper. What percentage of us are actually Indians at heart?
How do you always manage to dig up these absolute gems? They’ve got this way of shining a light on the tiny bits of wisdom we all carry deep down inside... 🙏 🙏 🙏
Hatred? To me, hatred is just a negative emotion that kicks in when someone or something "forces" our hand, making us act against what we actually enjoy or love over a long stretch of time. It’s basically just chronic anger. If you’re hit with constant irritation that you can't shake, that anger eventually boils over into hatred.
Like any other emotion, hatred has levels. It can be a flash in the pan, or it can become a permanent fixture. You can direct it at a person, an object, a whole nation, animals, nature—the reasons behind it are endless.
Here's a mild example: I love chocolate, but I absolutely loathe Brussels sprouts. Okay, if someone serves me Brussels sprouts and forces me to eat them, I'm going to feel angry at that person. If they lock me in a basement and feed me nothing but Brussels sprouts every single day, I’ll be seriously tempted to start hating them.😁. But, (to answer the second question), there's also a chance I might suddenly discover how great Brussels sprouts actually taste. In that case, the hatred turns into affection—both for the sprouts and for the person who forced my hand, whether they meant to or not. I'd realize everything in life is relative.😁 Or, I could just stop eating entirely and starve to death, but then that would basically be a form of self-hatred, right?😁 So, love is what liberates me from hatred. That's why I can't accept the idea that they are opposites.
The solution is always within us. Either I take an axe to the person forcing those sprouts on me, or I learn to love the damn sprouts. It all comes down to how conscious and aware I am of the situation.
Second, I don't believe hatred is the opposite of love.
Third, hatred crops up the moment our lives become dependent on how everyone else behaves. It happens when we feel trapped and inflexible, when we refuse to allow ourselves the power of choice. Because every negative emotion, including hatred, carries a seed of liberation within it. The problem with emotions, though, is that they are exactly what they say they are: emotions. They are irrational, instinctive reactions triggered by outside forces. And you have to let them out. When you're pissed off, be pissed off! Smash some plates and glasses!😁 Then, sit down and actually think about why and what made you so angry. Otherwise, we risk losing our compass and our freedom of choice, sinking straight into hatred.
It all depends on us and how big our "Ego" is and whether we can perceive this; just know that around the corner, love (mostly self-love) is waiting to help us out.
P.S. S. Esse, this probably belongs on the psychology subforum.😁😉
Love. Such a simple word, yet there’s an endless amount you can say about it. Even when I think I get it, I realize I don't know a damn thing.
Love is the engine that drives everything. Like Anne Hathaway once said🙏, you need it to soften the edges, to crush fear, and to actually see beauty. On its own, love doesn't mean much. It isn't some perfect, untouchable absolute, but we can reach that sense of wholeness through our own contradictions. Love needs us to exist, just like we need it to find ourselves. It’s the one constant in this chaotic mess we call life. And look, it isn't always sweet or romantic—but somehow, it's all of that too. It’s not just sitting behind the "good" or "beautiful" things; it’s the actual glue that heals the friction within ourselves. Love isn't the opposite of hate; love isn't the opposite of anything. It exists in the middle and above it all. Affection can flip into hate, and hate can flip back into affection. But love? Love keeps that engine turning. Maybe love is the tool that breaks us apart just so it can put us back together as something whole. We shouldn't be chasing some "ultimate" version of love, because love already is that. It's how we take our internal duality and fuse it together until we're soft enough to accept the constant shift between black and white as the ultimate truth. Hate and affection just dance to the rhythm of love. The goal is simple: heal yourself, but do it by connecting with others. Love flows through us and, eventually, through everyone else. You can only truly give and receive when you stop setting conditions for other people and start setting them for yourself. That's when it clicks—giving is exactly the same as receiving, because it all starts and ends with us.
But hey, don't listen to me—I'm still figuring this stuff out...😁 😉
Just wanted to give a quick shout-out to a certain dear friend who’s been playing a bit of a disappearing act lately—you know, the guy who used to keep us all entertained with his fake little outbursts of hating women!😁
On this special occasion, I truly hope he finds himself some girl who can turn him into a real man, someone he can ride off into the sunset with... or maybe just sail away into some sea of romance... or whatever..😉
And please, let her be a total witch; just so she’s always ready with a bonfire if things go south... you know, just to keep the evil spirits at bay..
Alexander Parker69, happy birthday!
👋 👋 😘 😘 🙂 🙂
Anyway, enjoy wherever your soul happens to be right now and whatever it is you're up to....
People think about God based only on what they can grasp.
Yeah. A thousand people means a thousand different versions of reality and a thousand different opinions. It's just one big polytheistic mess. What if those people just... stopped trying to think about God? Maybe then they’d actually hit the edge of true understanding. What do you think, stormywolf2? Since you’re standing right on that edge, but you don't quite dare to take that one tiny little step forward?😘
Because, like you mentioned in your opening post, that kind of thinking leads them straight into the next dangerous trap:
some philosophers and scientists try to debunk these claims using arguments that are more abstract and incredibly heavy-handed, essentially trying to turn man into a "god."
Man, why would I even want to see them like that? Honestly, it's embarrassing..
But why does this happen? In my humble opinion, it's because they've mixed up their ingredients:
In philosophical thought, the word God can be paired with two predicates: absolute power and absolute wisdom.
So they assume this version of absolute power and wisdom is just the same thing as money, political clout, or scientific data—and I could go on forever..
In this scenario, what's above isn't the same as what's below.🙂
But we seem to have a knack for losing sight of that, don't we? What's your take, stormywolf2? Why do we fall into this specific kind of trap?
Instead of trying to make man a god, how about we just let God do His job and let man be human for once..
My apologies to the esteemed debaters for my blunt style; I know the way I write might disrupt the gravity of this philosophical discussion. If I need to tone it down, I will. Though I'd really rather not..
Hehe, Slav, one of these days I’m gonna drop a few words about celery... though we already know all about chili, right? We feel it deep down..😁 😉 Today I'm feeling a little😢 and just don't have the drive..
But I'll make it up to you with the first round, I promise..
Woohoo! Reporting live from the scene of a massive rainstorm that apparently only had devastating consequences for my garden and not me... Exactly the opposite!
So, I can officially announce to all you commoners, The Witch of Lin, fellow gardeners, and regular folks alike—because let’s face it, we’re all in this together—that we have finally become parents! The first fruit has arrived: a tiny little tomato! Sure, it’s in the "microscopic pumpkin" category right now, but whatever... let’s not split hairs!😳 Once it grows up, it'll be a real tomato!😁
Also, the basil is absolutely taking off, especially after I thinned out the rows last time to give it some breathing room. The smell is pure heaven!
Mint is striking; a few sprigs popped up, and even though there isn't much quantity yet, the quality blows the other plants out of the water.
The broccoli is thriving too, and honestly, the zucchini aren't shy about showing off either...😁
Sage is clearly loving this dry spell, because it’s currently racing with the basil to see who can grow faster and better..
Thyme is just thyme, moving along slowly but surely.. such a delicate little thing; it's the baby of the group for now, but don't let that fool you; those are the ones that catch up later and overtake the fast burners who use up all their fuel at the start.😉
The only thing worrying me is an ant... it refuses to come outside. Reminds me of myself; until everything is certain, there's no leaving the bunker!😁 Hmm, I'll have to come up with some kind of magic trick....
Oh yeah; I gorged myself on blackberries today. The white ones haven't ripened yet. And I've got a tenant in the basement—while I was filling up a jug with homemade apple cider vinegar, I spotted two eyes staring at me from the barrel. A little rascal. I have no idea how many chances they had to touch frog skin; it's a very weird, slightly unpleasant sensation. Sticky and damp.
Oh, also. Some strange chicken greets me in the yard every time, and then we play hide-and-seek. Maybe it's a female peahen that escaped from someone's yard, but since I'm not exactly an expert on identifying breeds, who knows..😁
What else? Butterflies are still "getting in the way," and by the end of the season, my biceps and triceps will be the envy of every bodybuilder😁 (of course, wherever I go, I lean on male strength to help carry the water buckets, though that doesn't happen often enough..😉 ) and hopefully, I won't end up with a bruise.
Last week the garden had some visitors, and I think there was some mutual love exchanged, and I have to thank my buddy for his selflessness in hauling canisters out of the well. Props to you!
Anyway, I'm off to pick off any potential ticks and water myself!
Look, let me tell you... today's massive cloudburst just completely shattered the scientific foundation of folk religion and superstition..😁
Dammit, I walked through my front door absolutely soaked. Sure, I was praying for some rain for my garden, but I didn't ask for a freaking flood.. I'm sitting here wondering where exactly I went wrong with my "rituals."😁 😎
So, you won't believe what happened to me yesterday... I’m walking up toward my favorite patch of Jasmin, and suddenly... the whole damn bush starts vibrating like crazy! I look closer and—holy crap—there are about 40 bumblebees living inside that shrub! My God! The singing, the shaking, the buzzing... it was like standing right next to a high-voltage power line and hearing that constant bzzzzzzzz... 😁 A literal natural power line... 🙂
Insane! So, naturally, I started singing that old nursery rhyme: "It ain't easy for a bumblebee, zum, zum, zum, zum! For a bumblebee man, zum, zum, zum, zum! To pick out from all the bees, zum, zum, zum, zum! With the same colors and patterns, to find his one true Mara; zum, zum, zum- zum, zum zum!"
Look, I know I'm tripping... but life's been rough lately, and this was just one way to make things feel a little lighter. 😉
It’s been absolutely brutal lately with this drought... Every single time I was lugging heavy buckets of water out to the garden over the last few days, I kept thinking about how absurd it all is; there’s zero rain, the ground is parched, yet my own body just keeps producing fluid. Way too much. 😁
Staring at that dry, cracked earth, I could practically feel the thirst myself—that desperate craving for water from the plants that felt almost like actual pain. And all those buckets I hauled around? They felt like such a cheap substitute, a pathetic band-aid for what was really needed. Just thinking about it made my throat go dry, then suddenly my mouth was watering... Water is life. Seriously, water is everything. It's the fertile waters of a mother carrying a child, the moisture between thighs in the sweet anticipation of a lover, water in a glass, water inside ripe fruit... Water is life and fertility.
When the rain finally hit two days ago, my thirst just vanished. None of that other stuff—no tea, no juice—could ever touch that growing desperation I felt after my last trip out to the garden.
So now I’m just sitting here, watching the soil finally look satisfied, purring in contentment as it starts to grow again. It's like the earth is pregnant. 🙂
And then, out of nowhere, this music drifts into my ears. It sounds so familiar, yet totally foreign at the same time... voices echoing a single word over and over—allahuu, allahuu, allahuu.
I’m struggling to remember where that melody came from... and then it hits me. It’s from that Sufi spiritual music concert at the Lincoln Center earlier this month. The whole set lasted, what, two and a half hours? But the very next day, I couldn't recall a single tune. Not one lyric. Nothing. It was like I wasn't even there... until now. The rain unlocked the memory; it released the melody and pulled it right back into my consciousness... allahuuu, allahuu, allahuuu.
Sorry if this post feels a bit unhinged or "impure," but I can't help it. This is just how it comes out.
AMONG the crowds of men and women, the massive sea of people, I feel someone spotting me through subtle, almost sacred signals, Ignoring everyone else—not my parents, spouse, siblings, or kids—just focusing on me, Most people are just lost in the shuffle, but not that one. That one actually sees me. Oh, my lover and my absolute peer, My plan was for you to find me through these quiet, hidden traces, And when we finally cross paths, I intend to recognize you by those same unmistakable signs.
I don't know about you guys, but I have this weird habit where I don't actually start appreciating things until much later—usually once they become a total staple in my daily routine or something I can't stop rambling about in conversation. When exactly is that moment when Jasmin stops being just some common shrub or a vague association with some pop singer whose music I barely tolerate unless I'm in the right "Jasmin-scented" company?😁
And when does someone you see all the time, or even just chat with every single day, suddenly turn into a lover that makes every cell in your body scream?
To me, it’s one of those huge, unsolvable mysteries... how everything just clicks, wires together, and triggers this absolute explosion of feelings and associations, when a bush isn't just a bush anymore, and an acquaintance becomes so much more...
Anyway, today I headed out to plant two new friends: peppers and tomatoes. The ladies at the local farmer's market gave me such strange looks, and honestly, I probably looked even weirder to them when I told them I only wanted to buy three tomato seedlings and three pepper ones (there's that number three again😁). They were clearly judging me because they had already prepared to dump about twenty seedlings on me, so I just said, totally innocent-like, "Oh, you know, I only have a tiny little garden..." "Oh, honey, don't worry about it! Everyone starts small... one day you'll be running a whole farm!"
Hehe, I love those women. If I had more time, I would've stayed to grab a coffee with them, and they probably would've talked me into starting a full-blown revolution...😁 😉
So, shovel in hand, feet on the move... and then I stopped dead in front of the beauty of a bush that's been sitting by those old, broken wooden gates for years, and I'm only just now truly seeing it. The first thing that catches my eye are these tiny, delicate white flowers... they've just started to open... and the scent... it's not at full strength yet, you only really catch it if you lean right into the bud, but man, it's there...
"When soulmates meet, the scent of Jasmin hangs in the air..."
"Suppose WE create a civil War among The gardens and crown The jasmin empress and queen of All !" Charles Dickens
By the way, Jasmin is famous for being a powerful aphrodisiac. It smells strongest at night. I don't know much about its medicinal properties, but I think I'm going to start looking into that...
But enough talk, duty calls, so I got to work planting my two modest little friends. There are an incredible amount of butterflies this year, so one light blue one was basically following me around the whole time. It kept poking its nose into every garden bed, swooping down to every little plant to sniff it, acting like it was judging and evaluating my progress. Eventually, it tired itself out and landed right on my little right toe, so we just sat there having a little chat about the weather...
The philosophy for planting tomatoes and peppers is a whole thing; you dig holes about 8 inches deep and soak them with water. That's crucial because these babies need tons of moisture, and I can't exactly trek out to the garden every single day to water them. Then you mix in some good manure, top it with a bit of soil, water it heavily again, and *then* you tuck the seedling inside. Cover it back up with the remaining soil and soak it one last time.
Of course, that is if you don't mind a little blue butterfly slowing down your workflow. Otherwise, the garden is doing great so far. The basil is going to be massive, and I'm giving away free seedlings to anyone interested. The broccoli is holding up well too. Same with the sage, and the rest are shyly peeking their heads out.
Honestly, there were so many obstacles on the way to the garden today. A tractor blocked the road for ten minutes, and then on the way back, a truck cut me off, so I actually had to ask the neighbors to let me cut through their driveway to get to the other street. All in all, a good day.
But it was worth it. As always. Plus, I met Jasmin. And my life will never be the same.🙂