re-imagining

Of course the transitional season would bring changes in my life, but I couldn’t have seen these biggies coming.  Moving, searching, shifting, digging (for work and meaning and purpose and place), and asking with greater urgency than ever, what is it that I want?  It feels so dramatic and life-changing in this moment. Want doesn’t seem like enough to encapsulate this feeling, not to mention the hubris.  Seek, intend, desire…Or maybe better is to ask, what’s the next step on this larger journey on which I am just along for the ride?  It is an organic process, one that I have to learn to be patient and trusting in.

“The flower doesn’t go from bud to blossom in one spritely burst. It’s just that culturally, we are not interested in the tedium of the blossoming. And yet that’s where all the real magic is in the making of one’s character and destiny.”      – Maria Popova

If I imagine myself as a flower, it’s a little easier.  Life is being re-imagined in small ways as I blossom each day here.  Obsessed lately with anything Maria Popova says.

Being back here on this site is an excellent reminder for me of what is me.  The luxury of this space is that I don’t have to please anyone, I don’t have to churn out any set amount of material, and I surely don’t have to write about things I don’t like to write about.  It’s scattered, it’s sporadic, and it’s exactly my life.  I’m grateful for the space to sort it all out in these little bits and bites.  I read my old posts from Hawaii and remember the enthusiasm I have for the being outdoors, for discovering the crazy secrets of Mother Nature, and for challenging comfort.

Here’s a thing on my mind lately – I spent all summer working for a small market gardener (15 CSA shares and three markets per week), and recently transitioned to working for her husband who conventionally farms 3000+ acres of corn and soybeans.  [Seriously, can we not think of another word for one of these?  “Agriculture” cannot possibly house both agreeably in the same room.]  While these two hard-working people spend their days at entirely opposite ends of the spectrum of crop-producing agriculture, they somehow sleep in the same bed each night, and what’s more, completely support each other in their respective work.  It’s something I’ve been pondering all summer, and here’s the best thing I can come up with:  this is where it must start.

The dialogue, that is.  Because really, where else would the conversation begin, in a region of the country where industrial agriculture reigns and tradition stands strong as a form of personal identity?  To look in the face of slow-to-change, hesitant (and dare I say it, stubborn) world views, I can’t imagine a better dialogue for understanding the work that each of them is doing than a husband-wife duo who respect, care for, and work to understand each other.  He knows the hard work that his wife puts in each day, helps build a trellis system for her tomatoes when the old one collapses (again), and she recognizes the value of her husband’s work in feeding their family, in supporting a tradition of farming that he grew up surrounded by.  Making sandwiches for him in the field, suggesting marketing tactics to develop her business…on it goes.

Early mornings with the grain cart are at least really beautiful.

Where it goes from here, I’m not sure, but I’d like to push the envelope.  Could we imagine a time where these two somehow meet in the middle?  Could we work to create a gentler approach to agriculture that is both productive and respectful of the land?  How can I foster this dialogue in my role as a young-hopeful?

For now, questions are all I’ve got.  That, and the most amazing fall recipe that finally got me to buy a rolling pin.  Let’s continue this conversation, if you feel so inclined.*  It’s exhausting to enter these grey areas of transition and change and uncertainty with fists always up, so here’s to finding contentment in the process. Harvest will be done in a week or so, and then it’s on to packing and off-season work.  I’m content tonight with a frozen pizza, headstand practice, fuzzy socks, and long underwear.  (I saw snowflakes tonight, okay?)  Oh, and I wrote a little ditty on another blog, if things like nourishment, mindfulness, and digestive health interest you.

*[if you feel so inclined] – comment here, email, follow my insta for weird vegetable pictures, etc.  @newcuriositea

Peace to you all as you go about your day.

Rachel