On a surprisingly luminous day, walking her dog in the Green splendorous Recreational Park, she came up with the idea how to capture new hope and warmth in daily affairs and relationships. She reads the newspaper every day with a cup of tea. On this particular day she had enough of black and white afflictions – there is just too much bad news circulating. Where are God’s Colorful Herbs? Where will all of this lead too, she worries in her mind, since we all, according to Systemic Psychology, are connected to all, clearing off the kitchen table. Often, Sally wishes for a Media, which only spreads good news about local environment and the world. But she knows that shocking conditions are a needed distraction from the own idiocy- a side glance to her husband makes her even more aware of this. Every morning the same thing: go to the toilet, pull up the shutters, bring in the newspaper and then set the breakfast table. Her husband drinks coffee, her tea. Then there’s sausage for him and jam or honey for her. The dog gets his brushing tooth bone and between the two of them there is not much essential to talk about, most of the time. “Now, please don’t”, is the answer, “not at the breakfast table”, “OK”, she grumbles back, quite busy to get the morning hunger under control. “Then, it’ll be later.”
Sally has been thinking a lot about control dramas, in the framework of the books she reads, because she’s worried about her marriage with Sam. She simply no longer wants to cope with the demands of her husband and, as she sees it, his constant questioning why she does this or that, says, taps on her own energy level. Before she tended to withdraw, so she wouldn’t get engaged in a conflict. Questions about this and that, him or her, just all those things she just did not want to deal with. Her willpower supports Sally in controlling constantly emerging self-doubts, her basic fear to be subconsciously manipulated by Sam. When she felt her energy being dragged down, she took a distance to him. She will not give up her space, she never has because she has to also take care of her elderly and disabled mother. She gardens the grave of Sam’s parents for several years. At 9am it’s time to wake up her mother in the basement of the house and get her ready for the day. The old woman lives with Sally and her husband because, as she admits kept a generously sufficient affection for her mother. She never made a big fuss about it. The physical and mental condition of the old lady changes on a daily basis. Sometimes, her mother Susan takes actively part in the now and here, and on other days her mind and body is leaking at both ends. Sally calls her also Ms. Gaga, and registers exactly when the old woman escapes to the land of the Wizard of Oz. The Mother-Google view holds unfathomable dangers for everyone, for her, Sally and most important for her relationship to her husband Sam. Since Sally studied Systemic Psychology “en passant”, she firmly believes that all relationships are some sort of mobile construct and continuously moving.
All are connected to each other, and once this thing escapes the slipstream of idleness and boredom, the entire object starts to waver and rock the physical body. Undermined with this situation she sometimes takes walks with her mother, of course, in a very slow pace and suffers, because she feels left in dismay. On her daily excursions to the exterior, the jubilant singing birds can’t touch her soul for some reason or another. Imbued with terrifying world news, the apathetic morning gestures, her stumbling behind her four-legged friend, she desires with all her heart to be able to enjoy the Green splendor by the Creator.
She had the idea while strolling with her dog in the neighborhood. The clean paths and streets, hardly any green wild plants to be seen – the walkways free of grasses only clean swept asphalt.
Looking out for a feather
bird’s alluring splendor
A touch of silken ease
Decoration for her path
Following the flowing force
on top feather rests light
To the spring of origin
Her lap as inspiration
attracted by femininity
To the gardens she follows her path
On gentle, reliable Earth
A solid carpet with numerous grasses
Beholds the second plume of splendor
softly firm feather, sunlight, shadow
Conscious game of hazy, open eyes
streaming power of the wind
plume loses it’s feather splendor
what remains is invisible
At night, when most people sleep, she’s safe. Some dream, certainly not about me, she thinks to herself. Surely enough no one looks outside to watch what’s happening in the darkness, no one does that anymore. If someone watches, it’s TV. She passed the same plants several times and planned in advance how to harvest them and transport them back to her home. The grasses and flowers in the public recreational parks have a considerable size. She often fixed her eye on some. I WANTS it, ruled her head. The flower beds are located diagonally opposite to the Electric-Power-Station. They have been converted over the years to small power-generating or redirecting energy stations. She could decode some hissing, droning public secrets and took note of the secrecies- however, she feels much more laid back about these noises. Sally can’t seem to tranquil her hunger for the grasses, herbs and flowers. It’s their delicate pliability and continuous movement, which fascinates her. In her imagination, she sees the reeds beside the bulbous perennials and next to the flowers. Public plants come in the front yard and are placed next to each other in a circle. The neighbors will think that she had invested money in the garden.The grasses will also look good dried in the winter vase. She is convinced.
Even Aphrodite isn’t as lovely, necessary as our plants on our planet! The green carpet covers Mother Earth, the actual feeding ground for humans breathing, feeding and life in general. An individual leaf holds on the bottom of each leaf up to 1 million open lips which exhale oxygen. Sally reads a lot about the “Intelligence of Plants” in a book by Thompkins and Bird, scientists, who did extensive research in this field. Sam always says “esoteric nonsense”. When he talks that way, Sally is no longer self-protective, because she got some clever info about it. Once she began a conversation about sex. She described a scene where a sexual energy is released into the bio – atmosphere and quoted the book where the Orgones, as a fertility rite, had sexual intercourse on new fields, which actually stimulated the grass growth.
Sam seemed obviously pretty uncertain. He allegedly avoids the topic sex, for the sake of not talking about it. Sally grasps the opportunity and lectures further about what Francé, a natural scientist, knew about the secret of the plants. “Plants move so easily and freely, as most trained folks, or like Ben, the dog. People notice nothing, because they can’t see movement in slow motion. With the slow motion Natural Geographic pictures, it’s even proven that plants dance in the light. “Plant roots, she continuous quoting, dig and search through the ground, buds and twigs swing in circles, leaves and flowers take a bow and shake alternately, and tendrils looking to rotate and stretching out their ghost arms. They scan their environment”. “He did say that nicely”, commented Sam briskly. “Stop it! You can’t see it, because you don’t take the time to watch it. You think of this as superstition and don’t realize that the plants have their origin in a material world of cosmic- beings”.
Pick only healthy, clean plants that are free of vermin and don’t collect any plants that lay in dirty, polluted waters or close to busy highways and industrial plants, she thinks to herself. Some plants are under protection. Do not press the flowers and leaves at the gathering and don’t use plastic bags for the transportation, otherwise the plant will start to sweat. She loves wild growing gardens, testimony of an act of revenge by nature. This disarray is evidence of a backlash, as a response to mankind’s excessive orderliness. The shovel in the backpack, the paper bag for storage, the backpack for the obfuscation of chlorophyll sources – safe- with her – a ritual.
She found herself so sick of the compulsion to keep everything under control, that she felt a great satisfaction carrying the stolen grasses in her backpack. Coincidence or providence, on Valentine’s Day she avoided her habitual path and suddenly was given the ultimate insight. “The plants will show you the gate to escape the tribulation”. Sally often notices that things wanting to be thought about are formally displayed before her frontal lobe. Even if it concerns areas of expertise, a woman her age usually is not interested in. She then thinks about who she talked to on the phone, to figure out the source of seemingly pressing, thinking thoughts. The shovel in the backpack, the paper bag to stow, the bag to hide; the chlorophyll carriers in safety, with her, Sally. For the beginning small to medium-sized specimens are sufficient for the garden. Earlier, she divided the garden into sections so she knew exactly what it should look like. The first herb she dug out with a small shovel, turning around to check if there were witnesses, was the first harbinger of spring, Bear Leek.