To Yield the Crops, Growth Must Occur

Slicing tops of tomatoes, sticking my finger in pushing the seeds out under the flowing water. One, two, three, cleaning the insides. There’s joy in this process.

We all get defensive. We all try to protect ourselves from the hurt of others thoughts, the fear of someone getting the better of ourselves with judgment, opinions, and the worst of them all, truth. It is a lesson of self-exploration while the soul learns to yield to trust that stops the battle armament from forging. Trust of care, trust of self, trust of knowing things will work out; even when we still don’t know the results is our best defense between each other. Yet, even as it is written, the strength it takes to get there is half the battle.

Pausing between tomatoes, picking the basil from its stem, fingers brought toward the nose to inhale the freshness of the green growth. Pointed, firm, fresh, picking the best growth on the stem. There’s contentment in this process.

We all want the best of ourselves. It’s a misnomer to assume we all have the same lessons to learn or we know each others lessons. The blessing comes from knowing we balance each other, mixing our lessons with one another. Even the worst experience becomes the best teacher, if we can still our insides from the pitch fork of distress. When life becomes sh!t, we should practice stillness inside. Stillness from the tape recorder that judges us, stillness from the controlling hand of minds contemplations, stillness from pushing feelings away. Stillness even when all these things fight us. They will fight us.

Slicing tomatoes and chopping basil, my fingers reach for the garlic. Cusped under palm, crush, then peel. There’s healing in this process.

Today is a sunny day. I am pulling out my tent to prepare it for camping. There is a month left until Festival. Festival! Also known as Michigan, Festival has always been the highlight of my year. This year feels uncertain, in that too much change happened between the last one and this one. I am not sure what it will look like for me, though I hope to let go of my underlying feelings of being separate and isolated from the women around me. I do know, these words on the page, are the ones that will yield the best growth for my time there. I really like this part of myself that gets this. I really like the fact that I am willing to risk myself in these words. I like the idea of letting go and trusting in this stillness.

Combining tomatoes, basil, and garlic, this harvest slips through my fingers and sticks to my fingers. Scraping the bowl, fold, then turn. There’s truth in this process.


Photo from the Festival Website