Humus, soil, Earth- the substance that brings fertility and nourishment. Home to decomposers, revitalizers and care-givers. The foundation for roots, critters and support networks: mycelial, tuberous and tap. Seeking and wandering. Steadfast and geometric they stretch. If not nurtured itself, protected, and left fallow- it can perish and all within it will cease.
Without the soil there are no plants. There is no garden, there is no glorious food web of life.
When endangered and overworked it crumbles, hardens and becomes dirt. Becoming rock rather than organic. It will become stagnant and still. Wind blown and erased. Silt, clay, loam all necessary to thrive. It's plight very much intertwined with out own: food, purification, protection and growth. To the Earth it is creativity, curiosity and invention. It shapes, steers and releases. It is the soul. The spirit. The foundation of our geosphere.
Everyone is rooted in their own soil. It is fertile when we are in the flow- creative and innovative. It allows us to plant seeds and gather the harvest. It provides strength and support. When our branches are full and reaching potential- we provide the lift and environment for personal fulfillment. Our bough allows us to try new methods, to rest and rejuvenate. It is our reservoir. Our campaign. Our ability to find a safe haven in the storm. But sometimes we stretch it thin, we plant to many options and the nutrients dwindle. Our leaves wilt and our branches droop.
It can take weeks, months and even years to reestablish a healthy tree. To bring our forest or garden back to its glory. Flowers blooming, insects buzzing, soil thriving. Trees whistling. Until the leaves are bountiful and the blossoms thick, it sometimes is best to rest. To allow the sunlight and rain a chance to replenish, and revive the nursery. To enclose it and protect it. To be quiet and still and just let things happen. To just be. For sometimes the loudness and traffic cause drought.
Till the soil and let it breathe. But without tractor or hoe- with small incremental movements. Nothing sudden or the soil will dry and crack. Just let the nature of things shift and settle the newly found nutrients. Prune back the weeds of doubt. They will creep and crawl into any transformation. They find weakness and attack. They must be recognized and accepted. They do not need to remain, give the decomposers in your soil time to break them down.
Greenhouses and conservatories only prosper when they are allowed to bear fruit. When they are allowed to pollenate and grow tall and vibrant. But it takes a lot of work. A lot of horticulture and landscaping. Thought and routine. Planning and execution. This takes energy and sometimes- energy is hard to come by. The sunlight needs to be able find respite in the leaves. The water allowed time to rise in the roots and stems. Sometimes focus needs to shift to something else for awhile.
Thus, to plant, the kingdom plantae, planting one's foot on the ground, a place where an industrial or manufacturing process takes place- even the types of plants: herbs, vegetables, flowering plants, evergreens etc.- they all apply to my #oneword2023. To keep myself nourished. To stay steadfast in my learning and growth. To till, prune and nurture my priorities. To stretch my branches far, and offer support to my fellow leafy friends. To breathe in silence and cleanse my spirit frequently with moments of joy and fulfillment.
My #oneword2023 is Plant and all the connotations and meanings that go along with it. I will not uproot my calm nor degradant my soil. I will ease myself back into the bustle of jungle life and simply observe the sunrise and sunset for a bit. Then unfurl my tendrils and climb. I will seek moments to grow and many to rest. I will peek through the overgrowth and find the room to stretch and sturdy my many goals.
I look forward to the camaraderie and community I have been absent from for awhile. Happy New Year and I hope your fields of seedlings sprout and bring you joy this year.
