Spring Equinox: A Change in Spirit
Slowly making my way back to myself.
I got my hands dirty today. My first day out of the cave of my mind since I landed. The journey home was one of hellish chaos, and seeing Justin at the airport, realizing that I really had made it back, caused me to break down. Five airports to get home, two full night layovers, and knowing that I had caught the last plane back from London had me shaken and far beyond exhausted. I suddenly no longer had to run from the collapsing bridge behind me. My emotions short circuited and I needed time to just disappear. So I did for a few days. My soul needed time to return to my body. Life breeds life. I found this truth today as I uprooted old crop and weeds from our little vegetable bed, inspiring my spirit to reroot. I used my hands and arms to churn the soil, enjoying the sensation of a cold bed coming back to life. Or at least being prepared to.
When I sense chaos, my prepper brain moves towards the how-to of growth. I've caught myself thinking of my old farm job in Wyoming, as well as my boss there. Scott. He was a genius. From an outsiders perspective, he maybe was a little intense, but you have to be to grow food for an entire community. Early on, he realized that if trucks were no longer able to supply the few grocery stores in the area, people would starve. So he took it upon himself to make a change. He made a very humble plot seem larger than any farm, and I'd never tasted vegetables so good. Some of my neighbors had chickens that I would get eggs from, others had goats that they'd make kefir, yogurt, soap and cheeses from by using their milk, and another had cows they'd slaughter, garnering as much meat as possible while tending to the grasslands. We all fed each other. This was the single most powerful example, living example, of community I had ever witnessed - or existed within. It moved past economy, stitching its way into something far more necessary, ancient, and profound.
In Morocco, the subject of livestock and produce is less of a curiosity and more of a daily reality. It's simply part of peoples lives. Words like "local," "organic," "pasture-raised," or "farm-to-table" seem silly, wind-baggy. It was eye opening to realize that the cheapest thing to do in Morocco by far was to eat, and eat well. Unlike here in America, where the cheapest thing to do is shop. If you want good food here, you better be prepared to pay. Thriving as a community hasn’t been our overall priority, so we settle for cheap things that look real enough. Where I live, it's a novel idea to have a meal that isn't comprised of imported things. In Morocco, importing is far too expensive, and would put people out of work and purpose. This time has been frightening for so many and incredibly overwhelming. Yet I think that we're being given a chance to think and operate differently, for the future well being of all. I'm taking my time adjusting, and as I find that my priorities want to change, I'm letting them. Today I'll plant kale.
