01/26/2026
Amidst the aggressive forces at play in the world, the heartbreak of genocide, ecocide, dominance, and exploitation, I find refuge in my garden. I find solace in the sun and the cycles. I find a safe haven to grieve, and to remember what being held in connection feels like.
The process of growing and tending my food and medicine has been a personal salvage. I also see it as a kind of martial arts side step. A sway. Not resistance, per se. But a drop in a river flowing another way. 🙂
It is a process of weaving myself back into the web of relationship with the living world. Back into connection with those upon whom my very life depends. And somehow, I can still forget…. Without the practice, the awe of sprouting seeds, the wonder of working with wild species and healing spaces, the continual observation that guides discernment about how to interact, and the resulting upswell of my will to act on behalf of life…the amnesia returns.
The forces driving disconnection are strong, and also subtle. I am a child of late stage capitalism, and so easily entrained back into consumer, transactional mentalities. My garden, however meagre, however small, is my path back home again, to who I am meant to be.
I am grateful that I took a chance in my young 20s and followed my heart towards an agrarian life. I am grateful for those around the world who sing to the plants and the water, who treat seeds with deep reverence. Oof, it brings tears to my eyes.
And I thank you, who are reading this, for your own practices of connection and practical acts of love, to land and life.
I humbly invite those seeking support in this direction to join our garden planning circle this winter. More info in the comments (just follow the link). Cost is no barrier. DM me directly with questions.
This practice is about collective liberation, and about facing that direction together, to the best of our ability. ❤️