Impermanence

October 16, 2025
 Near Edgewood High School

 As autumn settles in, I again reflect about the truth of impermanence. In Buddhism, impermanence is a fundamental teaching that all phenomena, including our bodies, thoughts, and emotions, are in a constant state of flux and change. 

Seeing and deeply accepting impermanence reduces the inevitable suffering that is part of  life. Suffering encompasses more than just physical pain; it includes all forms of unsatisfactoriness, unease, and stress in life.

The Buddha throughout his long life emphasized the need to understand and embrace impermanence at a deep heartfelt level. The Buddha lived for about 80 years and died around 483 BCE.  He achieved enlightenment at age 35 and spent the next 45 years teaching his followers. It is said that while dying from food poisonings, his final teaching included : "Everything vanishes. Therefore there is nothing more important than continuing the path with diligence". 

Embracing impermanence is a lifelong practice cultivated through direct experience, meditation, and reflection on the constant, moment-by-moment changes in life. Autumn, a season of transitions, especially offers many opportunities to be mindful of  impermanence. 

Deeply accepting impermanence has several benefits besides reducing suffering and these include:

Living in the present: Cultivating an awareness of impermanence encourages mindfulness and a deeper appreciation for each fleeting moment. We shift from worrying about the future or dwelling on the past to living fully in the present.

Supports compassion and non-clinging: By acknowledging that all people and relationships are temporary, we can appreciate each other more deeply while learning to hold each other with compassion while reducing the pain of inevitable separation. 

Provides wise hope: The flip side of impermanence is that difficult times will also pass. Knowing that no situation is permanent provides resilience and wise hope in the face of adversity. Wise hope, according to Joan Halifax, is seeing and acting on things as they are rather than seeing things unrealistically. Rev. Joan Halifax is the current Abbot and Founder of Upaya Zen Center,  a socially engaged Buddhist center in Santa Fe, New Mexico.  To learn more about wise hope see my August 9, 2023 blog post.

Impermanence is not a pessimistic idea or one that means passively accepting the status quo. Instead, it can be a liberating and profoundly motivating practice that transforms one's relationship with life and how to act accordingly in the face of constant and continuous change. For more about impermanence here's a link  https://www.lionsroar.com/impermanence-is-buddha-nature/

Mary Oliver's poem In Blackwater Woods teaches us to embrace impermanence (in her words "love what is mortal") during this season of transitions. 

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
 
of the ponds.
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
 
is salvation
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
 
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

Caring for Prospect Gardens during September, October and November offered opportunities for letting go while being mindful of impermanence. 

In September, I noticed Kudzu covering plants in a section of the Gardens near the Japanese Sumac, whose green color was turning into a bright shade of gold. Kudzu had grown into the Japanese Sumac. Kudzu is a fast-growing and climbing vine native to Asia, known for its aggressive spread. It has been used for food, fiber, and traditional medicine, with parts of the plant being edible, with a mild, spinach-like flavor. A few years ago on my walk through the Gardens I noticed a women with heritage from one of the Eastern Asian countries harvesting the Kudzu blossoms. 

As I tugged on the Kudzu, while forgetting how it spread over the Japanese Sumac, I heard a loud snap. Inadvertently, I broke off a major branch of the Japanese Sumac. The aging shrub now has a new shape, a reminder of impermanence.   

Meg and Laura V. on a Break

Another reminder of impermanence: removing the Kudzu revealed a weed infested area that once had native plants.  On September 27th,  Meg, Laura V. and I weeded and replanted the area with plants that I purchased from K&A Nursery in Verona. The nursery was having a sale before closing for the season. I spent $30 for six plants: Four yellow cone flowers, one white cone flower, and a species of  goldenrod. Shortly after planting the goldenrod, three honey bees began pollinating the blooms. We fenced the area, protection from the rabbits that have recently claimed the Gardens as their home. 

Thank you Meg and Laura V. Your continued volunteering is appreciated. We worked very well as a team.

Temperatures in the 80's and 90's required me to frequently water the newly installed plants. Thank you Patricia and Jim, neighbors near the Gardens, for access to your water.  

Laura 

Laura stopped by while we planted. She often bikes the Path. Laura is a volunteer extraordinaire. She, with help of her husband, developed and now maintain huge areas of native plants along sections of the Path  that pass through the Midvale neighborhood. The area near where the Path and the Beltline intersect is especially impressive. Thank you Laura for your continued dedication to beautifying areas along the Path that provide benefits to passersby, small animals, and insects. 

We talked about the cone flowers and a species of goldenrod  (Solidago Rugosa/Fireworks) being planted. She didn't recognize the species of our goldenrod. Later, after a Google search, I learned that this one is a native and found from Newfoundland to Ontario and Michigan, south to Missouri, Texas and Georgia. Wisconsin was not mentioned. Like other goldenrod already in the Garden this one attracts bees and butterflies. I also learned that physicians in ancient times believed that goldenrod had healing powers and that it's not the culprit for allergies, as commonly believed. 

Online Photo

Here's what Mary Oliver says we can learn from goldenrod. Please note she incorrectly suggests you can have an allergic reaction to goldenrod.  

Goldenrod                            

 On roadsides,
  in fall fields,
      in rumpy bunches,
          saffron and orange and pale gold, 

in little towers,
  soft as mash,
      sneeze-bringers and seed-bearers,
          full of bees sand yellow beads and perfect flowerlets

and orange butterflies.
  I don’t suppose
      much notice comes of it, except for honey,
           and how it heartens the heart with its

blank blaze.
  I don’t suppose anything loves it, except, perhaps,
      the rocky voids
          filled by its dumb dazzle.

For myself,
  I was just passing by, when the wind flared
      and the blossoms rustled,
          and the glittering pandemonium

leaned on me.
  I was just minding my own business
      when I found myself on their straw hillsides,
          citron and butter-colored,

and was happy, and why not?
  Are not the difficult labors of our lives
      full of dark hours?
          And what has consciousness come to anyway, so far,

that is better than these light-filled bodies?
  All day
       on their airy backbones
           they toss in the wind,

they bend as though it was natural and godly to bend,
  they rise in a stiff sweetness,
      in the pure peace of giving
           one’s gold away.

Solidago Rugosa/Fireworks.

September quietly slipped into October. By the October 25th work session, the blossoms of the solidago rugosa/fireworks planted in September had given away their gold. The brownish seeds wait to be dispersed in anticipation of renewal and rebirth.

Likewise the once colorful aster blossoms, rustling in the breeze, are now brown and fuzzy to the touch. A new cycle of life awaits in the midst of impermanence and for winter to settle in. Some of the seeds will be nourishment for wintering birds, like the sparrows.

Cresa, Joyce & Kaia

Impermanence and life cycles were some of the hallmark of the October 25th work session.  Joyce, a long time volunteer, and two West High School Leo Club members, Gresa (on the left) and Kaia thinned out, cut and removed the abundant Jerusalem artichokes from a large section on the Regent side of the Gardens. Their efforts in the sporadic light rain resulted in a larger than usual pile of plant material that the city picked up. Thank you city crew members. 

Kaia is a Freshman at West and likes science and math. Gresa is an international exchange student, a Senior, and from Kosovo. Next year she will take some time off and then attend college in one of the European countries. Hopefully, I will have the pleasure of once again gardening with both of them as they continue their journeys. 

Thank you Joyce for once again tending the Gardens. Joyce is one of the original volunteers who joined our collective efforts 16 years ago. And thank you Kaia and Gresa. 

June

This is June with her trusted baby chain saw. She has another one, referred to as the mother chair saw. With some sadness and a recognition of reality, June expertly removed the dead cherry tree. Thank you June. I helped carry away the branches and cut many to a length required for pick up by the city.

The tree was one of three planted in April 2014 and now one cherry tree remains. The cherry tree was damaged several years ago and until this season bore fruit. June picked cherries for a pie. I enjoyed picking and eating handfuls of cherries. Birds also enjoyed the berries.

The tree was covered with algae and cutting revealed a space within the trunk full of large black ants. The cherry tree even in death provided sustenance and shelter while exemplifying the interdepency of life and nature. Perhaps next spring we will decide on a replacement.    

Michael, Jake, & Madeleine

November 1st arrived, after a festive Halloween, with cloudy skies and light rain shortly after we began the work session. Joining me were Laura V., and two West High School Leo Club members: Madeleine, and Michael. Camera shy Laura took the picture. Michael and I were enjoying a chocolate chip cookie during a short break.

 Initially, Laura and Madeleine began cutting back and removing cup plants while Michael and I tackled putting up the orange snow fences. Madeleine and Laura also collected wind chimes and other objects to be stored for the winter in the little shed. 

The cold rain increased and we decided to focus just on putting up the fences. Michael and I hammered in the steel poles and afterwards Laura and Madeleine fastened the plastic fences to the poles. In no time, the task was completed. Hopefully the orange fences will prevent the city snow plowing crew from pushing snow into the Gardens. 

Laura and I put away the tools, wheelbarrow and objects in the little shed. I closed the door, fastened the lock and declared that the 2025 Prospect Gardens season ended. Thank you all who volunteered this season. Please note, while impermanence is a reality, hopefully there will be a 2026 season and enough volunteers to care for the ever changing Prospect Gardens.     

 

Before ending with another poem, I am happy to report that the family of Sandhill Cranes are, as of
this date, still with us. Here they are the day before Halloween, in the afternoon, strolling down the sidewalk across from the entrance to the garage of our apartment building. The smaller crane is the youngster. I saw them again on Halloween, in the afternoon, leisurely strolling past the lobby window of our apartment. Both times the family looked like they were carefree and certainly not busy planning their upcoming migration.

Blessings to these three and the other Sandhill Cranes as they gather to make their way to southern United States and Mexico, including Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California. Some may also stop in areas like the Platte River in Nebraska to rest and refuel before continuing their journey.

The poem for your further reflection is by the Unitarian Universalist minister Rev. David Bumbaugh.

 Dancing in the Wind

Except for a few stubborn holdouts

the tree outside my window

is bare of leaves.

The wind,

this October morning,

worries those few remaining leaves,

pulling them this way,

twisting them that way,

tugging at them

until, one by one,

exhausted by the ceaseless effort to hang on,

they go dancing with the wind.

As they waltz past my window,

the stubbornness has left them

and they are finally free.

What is it about living things

that we expend so much energy resisting the inevitable,

hanging on to that which is already gone,

hoping to sustain a season

into times that are unseasonable,

clinging to old habits

despite the pain and the discomfort?

Why are we so afraid to dance in the wind?

November 2, 2025
Edgewood Drive

May we all continue dancing in the wind and have the wisdom to know when to let go.  

  

The Spirituality of Summer

Neighbor's Flower Garden

We often equate summer with vacations, strawberry shortcake, barbecues, short sleeve weather, or resting in the shade, perhaps in a hammock. When I was a child the annual church picnic and fund raiser (held near the July 4th Holiday) was the highlight of our summers. We were free for a day from the toils of harvesting crops. 

Commerce and religion overlapped as the Catholic priest or a parishioner called out Bingo numbers to those crowded on seating along the four sides of  a building on church property. An array of prizes, some very expensive, were displayed in the center of the building, easily in the view of hopeful Bingo players. This illegal ritual continued until the county sheriff's raid that resulted in a fine.

During the picnic, I strolled the grounds looking for a game that I hoped would end in winning one of those painted  plaster of paris horses, adorned with silver glitter. My sister-in-law Corine has one on her living room shelf. I never won a horse and didn't play the game for any length of time. I wanted to make sure I had enough money to buy ice cream, a rare treat in our family. 

    

As I aged I increasingly recognized the spiritual aspects of summer, as I did a few weeks ago watching this agile butterfly feeding on a brilliantly white flower. I was on one of my daily walks, passing by a neighbor's carefully tended front yard. 

According to the Oxford dictionary spirituality is the quality of being concerned with the human spirit or soul as opposed to material or physical things. My musings then are about how summer can be a time when experiences (may they be momentary) stimulate an individual's personal search for meaning, purpose, and connection to something greater than themselves.  

Here's Mary Oliver's poem This Summer Day with its message about the potential spiritual effects of summer.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean--

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down --

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do 

With your one wild and precious life?

I admit watching the butterfly/flower did not raise in my consciousness about the deep question of what I am planning to do with the rest of my life. Instead I marveled at the beauty that was in front of me. Noticing beauty is a form of spirituality as suggested in David Whyte  book Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words. The book, a birthday gift from my friend Linda, has short elegant essays on 265 words starting with Alone and ending with Withdrawal. Here's his opening paragraph from the two page essay on beauty. 

Beauty is the harvest of presence, the evanescent moment of seeing or hearing on the outside what already lives far inside us; the eyes, the ears or the imagination suddenly becomes a bridge between the here and the there, between then and now, between the inside and the outside; beauty is the conversation between what we think is happening outside in the world and what is just about to occur far inside of us. 

Margaret Renkl in her elegant  book  The Comfort of Crows, with stunning illustrations by her brother Billy, chronicles her observations and insights about the passing seasons, witnessed from her backyard, her neighborhood, and from the Nashville area. Her book, as one reviewer noted, is fuel to restore spirits in dealing with ecological grief.  She refers to summer as The Season of Singing and says this in the opening paragraph about the season:

Everywhere, from sunup to sunup, the world is full of song. The days are hot, hot, and all the hot long day I listen to the bees lifting from flower to flower, to the watchful chipmunk sounding its chock chock alarm while the red-tailed hawk wheels, crying, high in the sky. I can't see the songbirds in the dappled light of a thousand leafy branches, but I can hear them calling from the trees. 

Renkl, during her observations of week four of summer, laments the pain of watching plain working-class homes in her neighborhood being destroyed  to make room for fine, fancy houses. Especially painful for her is watching the shade trees and wildflowers being mowed down, too, with no more thought than a lawnmower gives the grass. So much life cut off for no reason but commerce. 

Renkl's book is a poignant case study of nature's spirituality, including grieving the loss of disappearing elements .  A fellow Unitarian, Kimberly, leads a Nature-Based Spiritual Practice Group at our church, First Unitarian Society. The group does pragmatic exercises to promote wholeness, wellness, and harmony through spiritual practices grounded in the Wheel of the Year and changing seasons.

Kimberly also is a member of  group that I belong to that meets weekly. We do a series of Qigong movements referred to as the crane.  During the summer we meet in Wingra Park on the shores of Lake Wingra, just across the street from our apartment. All summer long we watched a chick crane (referred to as a colt) mature. The elegant picture, taken by my neighbor Susan, shows that the colt was almost a full grown adult.  During one of our recent sessions, the family flew over us, so low we could hear the swoosh of the powerful wings. We witnessed beauty, grace, and elegance.  Comments made after our session indicated that we shared a few moments of joy as the cranes flew overhead 

Here's the crane family with the youngster in the middle, now fully grown. About two weeks ago, I stepped out of the backdoor of our apartment building and to my surprise saw the family across the street. I worried if they could safely cross busy Monroe Street to Wingra Park where they usually hang out. I thought if they were ready to cross at the intersection I would push the button that stops traffic and escort them across the street.

The family leisurely strolled towards the intersection while I waited at the light. The family made a sharp turn at the corner and headed west along Monroe Street. I wished them well and crossed the street heading to the lake. A few days later, a neighbor reported seeing them in the park; all is well. 

We have at least another two months to be inspired by our neighborhood cranes. According to a Google search, cranes leave Wisconsin in the late fall and early winter, typically leaving around mid-to-late November or December. They gather in staging areas like Horicon Marsh, near Horicon or Crex Meadows, another wildlife refuge in Burnett County. Their departure south is triggered by cold weather, snow, or freezing temperatures. 

Another example of how summer inspires spiritual-like reflections invite is this poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer's. 

Case Study In Insanity

Every year, the zinnias have died,
or else have come so close to dying
I’ve dug out their bare, stunted stems
and frost-browned leaves and planted
trusty petunias. But this year. This year
an enchantment of zinnias. A profusion
of red. Magenta. Yellow. Orange. White.
An astonishment of beauty. A bright
constellation of earthbound joy.
You have heard this, too: insanity
is doing the same thing again expecting
different results. So let me be insane.
For this is the year when again
I bought zinnia starts and hoped
for abundance and was stunned
by flamboyant abundance. It’s making
me wonder what else I might sow
until I no longer have energy to plant:
Kindness. Forgiveness. Trust. Love.
Just because they haven’t always flourished
before, well, look at all these zinnias
outside my door, brilliant and burgeoning,
dozens and dozens, and sure, they will die
come winter, but for now, more flowers arrive
every day. Brilliant. Just look at all those petals.

Tending Prospect Gardens provides me with needed refuge while reminding me that the human qualities mentioned in Rosemerry's poem (kindness, forgiveness, trust, and love) are possible and are present. I would add generosity and joy to her list. We may need to be more mindful of these human qualities when they are present, especially during these politically stressful times coupled with polarization. Also helpful is intentionally practicing these human qualities as suggested by Rosemerry's poem: It’s making me wonder what else I might sow until I no longer have energy to plant: Kindness. Forgiveness. Trust. Love. 

The Gardens continue to thrive as Autumn approaches. Once again, on July 24th Operation Fresh Start (OFS) crews helped me weed the Gardens. Here's the crew: Nyia  front seated on the railing; Will on the second step; Michael and Maliyah (leaning on the shovel) on the fourth step; Tony and Taylor, one of the supervisors, on the fifth step; Jay seated on the left railing; Isaiah behind him; Chris standing in the middle and Ian, the other supervisor, on the right railing. Thank you all.

Another joyful morning, interacting and working with these young adults, as they pursue their dreams. They worked hard and cleared many areas of weeds. Here's Isaiah laden with bindweed. 

Maliyah, Michael and Isaiah pausing in their labors.

During the evening of July 23rd  Ann and I attended OFS' open house celebrating the renovation of the former OFS headquarters, now the renovated Atwood Music Hall. OFS crews in the building trades program helped renovate the former offices, which are now on Milwaukee Street. 

We met several OFS graduates and learned  about plans for new programs in health related careers and in child care. The future is promising for this valuable non-profit.  Dedicated staff and board members support young adults (ages 16-24) on their journeys toward self-sufficiency through education, mentoring, and employment training. Ann and I are happy to support OFS.

On  mild August 23rd I enjoyed another work session. Joining me were Joyce, Peggy, and three West High School students: Kat, Madeline and Natalie. Kat is the Leo Club  President. The picture captures Peggy and the students making the heart sign.  

We worked for two hours, wedding on the Regent and Fox sides of the Gardens. Thank you all.

During the break a cicada landed on Madeline's hand and stayed for some time. As you can see from the picture Madeline enjoyed the encounter and I am assuming so did the cicada. All the humans certainly enjoyed the rapport between Madeline and the cicada.  

Kat, Madeline, and Natalie are seniors this year. I wish them well as they too journey forward towards self sufficiency. I certainly will welcome their return to Prospect Gardens. Their youthful energy adds so much to my joy of the work session.

Here's Kat weeding hostas along the border of Hanna's and her partner's home. She, along with Madeline and Natalie, worked hard and efficiently. 






 Here's four pictures of the Gardens as we transition into Autumn. Each has a quotation about summer's impact on the writer.

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

[T]hat old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, vacation nearly done, obligations gathering, books and football in the air ... Another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning, as if last year's mistakes had been wiped clean by summer.” 

Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose

The spiritual meaning of sunshine goes beyond its physical warmth and brightness. It symbolizes illumination, positivity, growth, and Universal presence. Just as the sun shines on everyone without discrimination, our inner light is made available to all of us.

Oprah Winfrey

"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time."

John Lubbock

We are now into September with summer fading into the past. I anticipate more blue skies like the one in the picture while the green leaves change colors and rejoin Mother Earth as compost. 

As I welcome Autumn the memory of enjoying this bouquet of summer flowers lingers in my mind. As readers of this blog know, I walk daily. Sometimes I walk the trails in the section of the UW Arboretum along Monroe Street starting at the Wingra Boat House, which is across the street from our apartment. During late July's hot spell as I approached Wingra Springs which feeds a pond just off of Monroe Street, to my surprise, I saw this bouquet left on the ledge overlooking the pond. I continued my walk with a feeling of gratitude for the beauty of summer, my good fortune of  being alive, and gratitude for the generosity of a fellow neighbor. 

I end these musings with Mary Oliver's poem Praying. I consider her the Patron Saint of Nature. 

  Praying 

It doesn’t have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

stones; just pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try

to make them elaborate, this isn’t

a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

  

The Generosity of Volunteers

During these summer days I pause to honor the generosity of Prospect Garden volunteers. They sustain a green space that benefits neighbors, users of the Southwest Path, small animals, birds, and insects. Hopefully, the milkweed nourishes migrating monarchs, in decline because of disappearing habitat. This year bunnies ("cute" depending on your perspective) are new residents, requiring fencing for new plantings. I reluctantly accept the new residents while regretting the damage done to some plants as they emerge during the spring.  

I continue with relaying statements, which I requested, from several individuals about why they volunteer at Prospect Gardens. Afterwards I reflect on generosity. Much what I say reflects the teachings of the Buddha. I end with a poem for your further reflection. . 

Here's the June 21st crew. Starting on the left front row: Joyce, Percy, and Peggy; second  row: Astrid, Bruce, Ann N.; top row: Gregory, Ryan, me, and Becky. Laura took the picture. 

Laura said she volunteers because of the Possibility of Ann’s lemon bars.  (her emoji). This is an understatement of why Laura has tended the Gardens for many years.  

Laura's statement acknowledges the generosity of my wife, Ann B. Besides providing lemon bars, Ann tended the Gardens and cleaned the path's ramps.  Ann also kept records about number of volunteers and total time. These were shared with the City Engineering Green Space Coordinator, Maddie Dumas. Data was used when David applied for a grant that funded the small prairie and seating area bordering his home in the Regent neighborhood and at the junction of the Path and Commonwealth Avenue. The seating area is an oasis for passersby including me. 

Becky in her floral bib overalls, perfect attire for gardening. Perhaps these should be the official Prospect Garden attire for volunteers and in recognition of their dedication. 

I volunteer for the community and the opportunity to take care of a public green space. Working on a shared goal with others is a great way to stay motivated and excited about the work. It's wonderful to see how much we can improve the space in just 3 hours when we work together. There are a lot of shared green spaces throughout Madison and we can make them a beautiful space for people and critters by volunteering! (Becky)

Astrid and I  worked for the Environmental Resources Center before we retired. The Center is now part of the UW Madison Extension's Natural Resources Institute.

I consider volunteering a responsibility we have to our community, a division of labor that helps everyone. It's kind of an assertion of our humanity; we take care of our earth, take care of each other, and take care of our community. Besides that, it's fun to work together with a mix of people. I especially like volunteering at Prospect because the people are interesting and the work we do at the gardens helps maintain a little ecosystem that lots of people on the bike path enjoy. (Astrid)

Gregory getting ready to leave after the June 21st session . He was on his way to the Capitol Square Saturday Market.

Volunteering is community building. I feel in current American culture we have ventured down a road of isolation, individualism, and division. Community is our remedy. Getting together with people you don't know well, coming together for one common goal. But, not a goal achieving wealth or status. Instead a goal of beautification. Of pride in up keeping one's community and green spaces. Being the change and maintaining it. We are social creatures. And nothing brings us closer together than working the land we share. (Gregory)

Ann N. in a picture from a 2024 work session. The gayfeathers (blazing stars) are once again starting to bloom. My wife Ann and I have known Ann N. for many years. Ann's daughter and our daughter, Emily, were friends starting with grade school and through high school. Our daughters were Girl Scouts together. 

Here's Ann N's three part response to why she volunteers at Prospect Gardens..   

Community

Volunteering at the gardens has connected me to old friends in a delightful way. When I first came, I looked forward to seeing some people I already knew - you and Ann. I have also had a chance to get to know some wonderful people from the neighborhood, and to run into old acquaintances I hadn't seen for many years. It's a community. And it's a multi-age community on the best days, not always a common occurrence but an important one. Our society tends to be age-segregated and I like talking to people of different ages.

Service

The blooms along the bike path are a gift to all who pass by. They are a reminder to notice the earth and to take care of it.

Treats

Things you don't always get at home.

Peggy in a picture from a 2024 work session. Peggy writes:

The reason I decided to volunteer is that I spend way too much time gardening in my own yard and I thought it made sense to cut back on my own yard and do something I like to do (garden), but with more of a community focus.  Also, the people are very nice and that includes you, Jake.  

As a result of volunteering at Prospect, Peggy and Ann N. have reconnected. I recently met them chatting while they walked together on the Southwest Path.  Ann N. was a Madison English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher and French teacher. Peggy has a background in ESL and they connected at school events as their children attended school together. Peggy's son was in Ann's French class.  

Peggy also has a past connection with Becky. Peggy taught  Norwegian at UW and Becky was one of her students.  Both now enjoy tending Prospect Gardens. 

Here's Joyce, a longtime volunteer. If I recall right, she is one of the initial volunteers when the Gardens were established in 2010.  Joyce, a resident of the Regent Neighborhood, is also a valuable connection to the Regent Neighborhood Association's Board. The Board, along with the Dudgeon Monroe Neighborhood Association's Board, financially supports the Gardens.

In response to my request, Joyce reflected on why she volunteers for other efforts besides Prospect Gardens. Here's the edited version relevant to Prospect Gardens:

The answer, for me, was actually harder to put into words than I thought it would be. I volunteer to do activities that I like doing. For the bike path - that is obvious - I enjoy gardening/digging in the dirt/watching things grow, etc. The next question becomes - so why at the places where I choose to volunteer. Again - taking the bike path as an example - because it is a part of where I live. I want to 'improve/help' my 'community' with my efforts. A very positive outcome of the bike path volunteering, in particular, is that I got to know others with similar interests and whom I came to enjoy. I think that was not the reason I initially volunteered (ie - to meet people), but it became a very positive outcome. 

Rajeev (sitting on the rail) past President of  Madison West High School's Leo club and other members, like Gaon, regularly tend Prospect Gardens. Rajeev will be attending the UW-Madison in the Fall. Rajeev responded by saying:

I volunteer because it connects me with my community and with people around me. I also love to be outside and support my local  environment, giving back a little. All of these are reasons that I volunteer.

Generosity underlies the behavior of the quoted volunteers. Buddhism holds that generosity is one of the highest virtues leading to happiness and supporting enlightenment. The Buddha often  stressed the importance of generosity, as he did in this passage from the Pali Canon.

Monks, if people knew, as I know, the fruits of

sharing gifts, they would not enjoy their use without

sharing them, nor would the taint of stinginess obsess the

heart. Even if it were their last bit, their last morsel of

food, they would not enjoy its use without sharing it if

there was someone else to share it with.”

Itivuttaka 18

Prospect Garden volunteers do not suffer the "taint of  stinginess." They give freely time, energy, and labor and with minimal, if any, expectations of material gain. Giving without expecting a gain is the highest form of generosity, according to Buddhism.

 

I now share more about generosity along with pictures of plants in bloom at Prospect Gardens. My primary source is Sylvia Boorstein's book Pay Attention, For Goodness Sake. Practicing the Perfections of the Heart, the Buddhist Path of Kindness. Sylvia considers herself a Buddhist and a Jew. Here's a link to her website.

 Her book classifies generosity as one of the ten paramitas. Generosity is the first chapter, an indicator of its importance. The others paramitas are morality, renunciation, wisdom, energy, patience, truthfulness, determination, lovingkindness, and equanimity. Collectively, according to Sylvia, the paramitas are habits that when incorporated into everyday living result in attitudes and behaviors that benefit individuals and society.

Purple Cone with a Busy Bee

Sylvia's chapter increased my understanding of generosity. Initially I viewed generosity as an exchange between individuals and usually involving money or something tangible; i.e., giving money to favorite charities or holiday presents to a deserving family.

Generosity to Sylvia is essentially the "habit of sharing."  She also points out that we can be generous to ourselves; for example, by letting go of our obsessive thought. I never thought of generosity in this way or as a habit that can be developed.  

Great Black Wasp on Mountain Mint 

Sylvia reminds us that "... we all have something we could give away." She has in mind more than our money and/or material goods. She points out that we can give away companionship, encouragement, and care.

Sylvia likes to tell stories about generosity and several are in a section entitled "Resounding Success." One of her favorite  is about James Baraz, another notable Spirit Rock meditation teacher. James often tells this story during retreats he leads and years after it actually happened.

James was attending a silent retreat. During one of his afternoon work assignments the cook gave him a piece of cheesecake, which was not served to retreatants during lunch. He was delighted. Rather than eating it himself he  divided the piece into fours. He ate one piece and put the other three near the cleaned dishes of his friends. At this retreat individuals washed their own dishes. During the evening meal, James delighted in watching his friends' surprise and pleasure of finding and eating the cheesecake.   

Yellow Coneflower 

Perfecting the capacity for generosity requires being mindful or as Sylvia stated being "alert for every opportunity that presents itself."  Daily opportunities for generosity present themselves.   

During Emily's childhood we cared for pets for many neighbors when they went on vacation.  I recall several weeks when Star, a neighbor's Schipperke, stayed at our house. Star and our dog Sugar were the best of friends. Sometimes  when I arrived home from work, Star would bark at me. I had to remind him this was my home and that he was a guest. At that time, I never considered us being the neighborhood caretaker of pets as practicing generosity. We were just being neighborly and now I consider being neighborly as offering many opportunities to practice generosity.  

Native Bee Balm

 As we cultivate the "habit of sharing"  (Sylvia's words) we experience more than just feeling good. She explains:

" The sharing itself, the generous act, will became the habit by which I can experience directly the joy of not feeling needy, the ease of a peaceful mind."

Not feeling needy and a peaceful mind generates contentment. In other words, one ultimate benefit of generosity is a deep feeling of being contented with one's life.  

Cutleaf Coneflower

Supporting the cultivation of generosity is recognizing that life is challenging. Seeing clearly that life is difficult and stressful (suffering to use a Buddhist term) can motivate us to  act in ways that provide comfort to ourselves and others who share with us the difficulties of life. 

If not already practicing generosity, Sylvia encourages us to intentionally cultivate the "habit of sharing" and to do so frequently.  She encourages us to partner with a friend, talk often with the friend about the experience, and focus on this question; " Who is around me that I can do something for?"

Joe Pye Weed 

 If you wish to learn more about the Buddhist perspective on generosity here's a link  

Meanwhile, the Gardens are entering their show-off time. Plants such as the above and others are blooming. If in the Madison area be generous to yourself by visiting Prospect Gardens.

 Thank you to those who are volunteering. Your generosity is greatly appreciated. If you are not a current volunteer, please consider being one, which would be a very generous act and also so appreciated. Contact me and I will provide instructions for joining the established Google group used to communicate with volunteers. I will also connect you with the Crew Chiefs, Ryan and Becky, who now manage and lead the collective efforts which sustains Prospect Gardens. 

Before closing with the poem for your further reflection, here's an updated picture of the young colt. The teenager now has golden brown feathers and is almost fully grown. What a generous gift from Mother Nature.

When Giving Is All We Have  (Alberto Rios)

One river gives

Its journey to the next.

We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.

We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.

We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it—

Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.

Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:

Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me

What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give—together, we made

Something greater from the difference.