Compost, Sohbet and Coneflowers

Today,
I made a new compost pile with the Green liner that Bette had given to me before she moved to Virginia. It brought back so many memories, about Bette and I having a relationship we described as Sohbet. Sohbet is a word that means having a talk within a friend, a spiritual friendship. We connected in such a wonderful way that allowed growth for both of us in so many surprizing ways. We lifted each other out of the 'boxes' we had created into Newer more exciting 'boxes' only later to remove ourselves again to anothe 'level'. It is so wonderful to have someone who can match you in your spiritual evolution and hold your hand to help you across the difficult and murky parts. Our trips into the realm of post modern thought into nihilistic thought, we would steer ourselves in our self made boats of reason and intuition. We went into many deep and dangerous waters that would sink us against icebergs of immovable paradox if we were not careful. We knew that we ventured into realms that had coasts of insanity and madness. We navigated our way through so many philosophical territories that we honored ourselves with home made degrees in recognition of our fortitude of spirit. Not exactly university degrees but I doubt that many theological students could have made the grades we did in our home made school of Gnosis.
At one point we dove into a far flung area that took us to the edge. We looked down into the Abyss. It was annihilation of all past concepts at its best. The sum of ego divided by relation of the divine minus anthropomorphic cover. We unmasked the gods. Looking into the Abyss that lay beyond that was frightening and at the same time, so very exciting. It grabed us with fury and shook all preconceived notions out of our souls and stomped on them until they were dust. Then it flung us into the Abyss.

In the Abyss, our Sohbet saved us, and we somehow managed to pull ourselves Across the Abyss to the other side. It was a brush with spiritual death, which is far more horrible than, physical. It was some ride, and today, after a long while of being silent with my friend Bette, I called her.
The Sohbet is still there, guess it always will be, and for that I am very lucky. Because for one reason, no one else knows where these 'boxes' are located, so how would anyone else find me?
Bette is 'chopping wood and carrying water'. and that reminded me that I needed to find more wood to chop. She is the one who taught me that to grow good veggies, you have to grow your own dirt... thus the compost.
It is a transforming pile of 'trash' from around the yard. Brought together in the 'magic' green plastic bin the trash transforms into the life giving dirt needed for the plants I want to grow. I put all the organic trash from the house and leaves, grass clippings. It is a wonderful natural device. It is also a model for being human, if you do take any trash inside of yourself, transform it into living dirt for the flower of next year. So to go with the compost, I collected and cut dried flowerheads off of the Purple coneflowers for seeds. It will be a beautiful garden, next year.
So, chop wood and carry water, pull the weeds from your mind and collect the trash, then compost it all for the garden of your soul.