June is the month of the Strawberry full moon according to the Algonquin tribes who have since taken responsibility for the naming of our lunar orbiting. This month is recognized for these tribes finally being able to pluck all the ripe strawberries from their swollen vines and enjoy the cool fruits under the heat of the sun. Sort of a humble pat on the back, a mid-way treat, a cigarette break, a pause, a beat in your tempo, a deep breath, a moment to close your eyes, lean your head back, wipe the sweat and just stand there for a while.
So, Karma. In a nutshell.
If you plant, if you work, if you water, if you gather... You'll receive the sweet taste of a fruity victory. If you don't, well...
What goes around comes around.
Repercussions are always there to remind you of the things you did or didn't do. Don't ever be fooled into thinking there isn't a cosmic cause and effect counterbalance. There is. It's a boomerang coming back at you with force 3 times harder than that of your throw, or if you're lucky, it's a nectarous little basket filled with the plump juicy berries you've been sheltering, feeding and cultivating to make your relaxation all the more fulfilling.
You are the captain of your own ship, as they say. Or farmer of your own field I suppose in this analogy.
So anyway, last month we planted our own row of strawberries in the garden. When we got them on sale from the local nursery they were weak, limp, and looked as though they were on their way to Hospice.
Regardless of their unfortunate demeanor, (looking like a wimpy pile of Lindsey Lohans who were damaged with daddy issues) we planted them anyway and in the warmth of the sun with fresh water to drink and Billy Joel serenading "Downeaster Alexa" on his piano from around the corner's iPod doc, our strawberries slowly began to perk up.
“Should you fail to pilot your own ship,
don't be surprised at what inappropriate port you find yourself docked.”
-Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume