Sep 21, 20223 min read

Harvesting Beauty {Week 17 CSA}

“But I suppose you must touch life in order to spring from it.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald

If you asked Zach or I if we'd planned to be farmers, you'd be in for a story. We both have our own winding tales about how growing food captured our gaze, too long and nuanced for anything other than a slow winter evening with a toasty mug in hand. Suffice to say that Zach was enrolled in monasteries and ashrams on the other side of the planet while I was enrolled in medical school. Neither of us aimed for an easy route then and the same holds true now, together. The gift life had offered each of us through our own unfeathered upbringings and too many close calls to count was a feel for the pull, an ear for the wind, and a tiny taste of real nourishment. Just enough of each to help guide us through the tangled journey of illusory guarantees to the very source of sustenance.

With eyes peeled open, we began to see each of us like waves upon the ocean, never apart from the sea of consciousness we come from, but often existing on the surface without realizing all that lies beneath. Working with hands in the soil, bathing in the elements of each day, and often only accompanied by the silent, small inhabitants of the land, offers a unique sense of closeness to that limitless ocean. In the space between our movements, the rhythm of the land can just barely be felt. A deep, undulating hum of forever dynamic life.

But it seems this intimacy with nature's heartbeat is not reserved for just the ones with perpetually dirty fingernails. Instead, it seems offered to those who stand firmly, humbly, and graciously in their role in life, no matter the label or the job at hand. There is an underlying appreciation when we don't resist the cards we've been dealt and within this acceptance lies our opportunity to relish life's offerings. Working with the land cultivates us as much as we cultivate it. We pull weeds in full recognition of the symbolism at hand: to harvest the best of ourselves, we must weed out the habits threatening our growth. It's a daily practice of intentional acknowledgment and as we progress, the fruit of our labor is a deep, resilient gratitude. The kind that rests calmly behind the dramatic motions of human life, offering us wide spaces within to accept it all.

We find it easier to harvest this kind of gratitude outside. Maybe it's the way four walls confines us to a fabricated reality of chores and blue screens, but whatever the reason, we notice our bodies and minds instantly soothed by the sun on our skin and fresh air in our lungs. Many of us have experienced this perspective-giving power of the outdoors. We sense the subtle unwinding that occurs under bright stars, tall trees, and expansive vistas. And we’re fortunate to not have to travel hours in traffic to enjoy it.

It's been said that love isn't the fabric of reality—beauty is. And love is actually our experience of recognizing beauty. If we accept this, our pursuit for love (from ourselves and others) rests on our ability to witness the beauty within and without. It asks us to take a few steps back and watch the incredible precision of life and our own mysterious role within it. As we slow down and savor our moments (no matter their flavor), there always seems to be something new awaiting our awareness and appreciation.

As the seasons turn from warm to cool, we’re enjoying the vision of slower days ahead. Juicy tomatoes might be brightening our last few meals, but all things apples and pumpkins await our relish. May we all find some slow enjoyment as Autumn emerges, sinking into this magical and delicious journey we share.

Indeed, beauty is everywhere.