Lemon Tree

I have a Meyer lemon tree

In a pot, of course.

It's minus 2 outside

And citrus is tropical,

Intolerant to sub-zero weather.

It blooms in January.

And scents the air.

I could put my nose into those blossoms

And never do anything else.

I am transported by that smell.

It isn't a childhood memory.

No citrus in my childhood backyard in Dallas.

It's older than that.

Inhaling the odor makes my heart glad.

I cannot resist smiling.

Even thinking about the aroma makes me smile.

I'm chuckling as I write this.

It's far too cold to walk outside.

Though Yvette and I walked two miles

When it was in the low twenties.

(I was not barefoot. LOL)

Tummo is my "secret."

"Tummo (Inner Fire) breathing originates in ancient Tibetan. It is a tantric meditation practice, developed by monks to generate internal heat. Tummo allows one to survive extreme cold in the Himalayas. It combines specific breathing patterns (like vase breathing), breath retention, and visualizations of inner flames. Rooted in Vajrayana traditions and Chandali yoga, tummo assists spiritual awakening and hones physiological control."

I was introduced to the idea that fighting the cold is counterproductive a great many decades ago.

Hunching my shoulders cuts off circulation, making me colder.

Scrunching myself up into a ball, traps core heat and slows its movement out to the extremities.

In Alaska, if anyone complained about the cold,

They were told to "eat more fat."

Fuel.

Endurance in the cold is layered.

First: Build brown fat in the autumn and early winter through cold exposure.

Second: Eat for the cold. Choose more fat, more protein.

Third: Relax. Breathe. Shiver. Move.

My snowshoes await.

And I'll return home, after my walk on top of the snow,

To the scent of lemon blossoms.

It is in beauty.

It is a giveaway dance, breathing with the plants.

Hearts beating as one with the heartbeat of the earth.

Surrounded by green blessings.

Gratitude

Joy