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Published April 27, 2012, 12:00 AM

Mike Rosmann: Best thinking done in raspberry patch

I do some of my best thinking in the raspberry patch. At the end of a mind-numbing day that has frazzled me, from late July until the first hard frost, I often end up picking red raspberries from our ever-bearing canes.

By: By Mike Rosmann, INFORUM

I do some of my best thinking in the raspberry patch.

At the end of a mind-numbing day that has frazzled me, from late July until the first hard frost, I often end up picking red raspberries from our ever-bearing canes.

Most gardeners, farmers and others who have access to the outdoors will attest they do some of their best thinking in their “raspberry patches.” For me it’s not always the raspberry patch where I can isolate myself from respon-sibilities temporarily.

The tall rows of pole beans that have climbed cattle panels that I attached to steel posts in one of my raised bed gardens provide another good place for solitude. I can pick beans and meditate at the same time.

The thick groves of pines and cotoneaster bushes surrounding our farm and the tall prairie grass on our CRP ground also provide good places to meditate.

I don’t take my cellphone with me, but I tell my wife, Marilyn, where I am headed so she can find me if necessary.

I have to allow sufficient time to become grounded. I let my mind sail to wherever it wants to go.

It always sails to the things that most need to be attended to. My gut tells me what is important to review.

Maybe I said something hurtful or inadvertently offended someone. Or maybe I was treated unfairly, and now I feel angry.

Bean-picking lessons

Metaphorically speaking, picking beans is a lot like life. If I approach the garden thinking there won’t be many beans to harvest, I usually can’t find enough for a meal.

I pay the price for this outlook the next time I pick beans because I usually discover overly mature beans I previously overlooked.

Now, they are beyond their peak of delicious flavor and tenderness. If I proceed to pick beans with an attitude that I will find enough for a meal, I almost always find enough for supper.

Some of the best beans are at the bottom of plants and hidden among the stems and leaves. That’s the way life is, too – some of our most teachable moments occur when we bottom out. When I learn, I become buoyed up.

Some of the best people I encounter are those at the bottom of the human pecking order. They know humility and acceptance better than most of us.

I learn from them.

Gaining insight

I have a wanderlust friend who spent several months during the 1970s working with Mother Teresa, the Albanian nun who devoted her life to caring for the most destitute, impoverished citizens in Calcutta, India.

Tom asked Mother Teresa when he began his sojourn if she would teach him compassion. For several weeks, Tom worked in the hospital operated by the Missionaries of Charity.

Periodically, he repeated his request to Mother Teresa; she did not answer him.

Just as Tom was about to give up his request and move on with his life, that evening Mother Teresa told Tom to meet her at 4 a.m. the next day by the hearse the sisters used to haul the sick and dying to the hospital. She asked Tom to drive the vehicle.

As they traversed the streets of Calcutta in the hearse, Mother Teresa directed Tom to pull next to a sickly man too weak to drag himself to the curb. She gathered the gravely ill man in her arms and told him, “My brother, you are saved.”

Together, she and Tom maneuvered the dying man onto a gurney and lifted him into the hearse.

After unloading the sick man at the hospital, the two set out to find other indigents in great need of care. They spotted an emaciated man lying in his own vomit on the side of the road and covered with flies and feces.

Mother Teresa directed Tom to pick up the man. As he approached the deathly ill man, Tom was so put off by his odor and filth he halted; he began to cry.

After several minutes Tom regained his composure. Tom cradled the sick man in his arms and easily lifted him into the hearse by himself, gently voicing, “Be comforted, my brother.”

But, as Tom thanked Mother Teresa for teaching him, she said, “Thank the man who you just cared for.”

Where do you meditate?

My experiences of insight usually aren’t as powerful at Tom’s, but in their own way, they completely remake my outlook. They bypass me if I don’t discipline myself to meditate.

If I neglect prayer on a regular basis, something always nudges me. Meditation is cleansing and “opening up.”

Sometimes I don’t find the answers right away, and I have to spend a lot of time in my garden or other niches to figure out things right. I can feel when I have attained peace.

Where do you meditate and work through issues?

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