Getting Grounded in Uncertain Times

No matter who you are, I think you’ll agree these times are…challenging.

Layoffs, market volatility, earthquakes. And that's just the last 30 days. The world feels topsy-turvy for so many reasons.

Yet now is the time I find myself digging in.

Digging into new opportunities, community, and most of all, the ground below my feet.

You see, I’m an urban farmer and I believe nothing is better for your mind, body, and soul than growing food, respecting nature, and cultivating community.

Growing food is a bold commitment to self-determination and resilience

Here in the Pacific Northwest, it’s planting season, the perfect time to envision the future we want and the harvest we dream of. Planting seeds is always a down payment towards a promise, and with all the chaos in the world, it also feels like a bold commitment to self-determination and resilience.

I’ll explain...

Feed Your Mind

I started this food-growing journey 15 years ago with my family and it’s been one of the most intriguing puzzles I’ve ever had to solve, year after year. Does your job require #systemsthinking? Food growing is all about that.

We had to learn about soil health and the rhythms of our growing zone. We studied companion planting, which I sum up with “if it goes together, it grows together.” We’ve thought hard about crop rotation and sunlight trajectories.

We’ve tested out #ScalableFrameworks to grow our peas and beans, learning each season about height, depth, and distance optimization. We’ve leaned into experimentation by designating a #CreativeSandbox to try new crops and see how they flourish.

**Scalable frameworks from the ground up**

All this thinking is a welcome departure from the worries of modern-day life. It’s a mental vacation, an analog antidote to the daily digital deluge. Even on grey rainy days, my #mentalhealth notably improves when I walk among our wild things.

It’s a mental vacation, an analog antidote to the daily digital deluge

And talk about #embracingambiguity. I find myself gazing down every morning, scanning the ground for signs of life.

There are no guarantees.

So, when that first green spinach reaches up, beckoning for light and water, it still feels like a moment of magic.

I continue to marvel at how pea tendrils grasp at twine on their upward journeys.

And when the tiny droplet of a pepper descends from its plant...

My fave? When my pal, the perennial rhubarb, starts as a tiny pink nub and unfurls among corrugated green leaves to make its journey into a classic spring pie.

My focus is heightened even more when an errant weed finds its way into my precious mint. Oh no you don’t!

Sneaky weeds don't taste as good as mint

Which brings me to…

Nurture Your Body

Weeding to seeding is work alright, and it’s the kind that is instantly gratifying. You bend and kneel and pull and shovel. The result? A clean row of rich soil ready to work. Talk about taking control of your destiny!

Want a good old-fashioned workout? Try moving in new soil for each season with a wheelbarrow. Hello, biceps! Even strolling in the garden gives an otherwise-sedentary professional a reason to enjoy “a movement snack.” You’ll be getting in your steps without even noticing.

Working in nature does a body good, inside and out. Freshly picked food is just inherently better. Because science. Once a fruit or vegetable is harvested and cut off from its original source of nutrients (plant, vine, or tree), that piece of produce begins to lose nutrients. And it’s not just more nutrient-dense; farm-to-table fare is food paradise because it tastes and feels better. Gone are the days of tolerating rubbery carrots or mushy berries.

Gone are the days of tolerating rubbery carrots or mushy berries

Never sprayed, or on a trailer, truck, or palette, a freshly picked leaf of arugula exudes zestiness. And a sun-kissed tomato right from its vine is di-vine indeed.

Embolden Your Soul

Ever heard of those “victory gardens”, aka vegetable gardens, planted during World Wars I and II? They helped feed civilians and troops, freed up resources, and boosted morale and patriotism.

We could use some winning like that right now.

In times of turmoil, soil offers soulful comfort. When the frost ends and the ground is workable, full of nutrients and creatures breathing hospitality into the underground world, I feel a sense of gratitude and giddiness. I believe our “farmacy” nourishes us in deep ways beyond sustenance and nutrition. It lightens our spirits and lifts our moods. Being outside with nature is just good medicine.

It lightens our spirits and lifts our moods

Sometimes the vegetables make you feel good before you even eat them.

Like when our root veggies create poetry in form, such as loving carrots whose growth is intertwined.

Or when a strawberry emerges with a face right out of a kid's book.

Or when we’re outside for hours and find ourselves watching the sky and riffing on shapes (cloudy with a chance of narwhals?).

Or when you unearth from its moist slumber a root veggie who's been dancing in the dark.

My favorite feeling comes from when a sunflower seed guides the rise of a new stalk, which then transforms into a flower tower with multiple heads of light lovers.

It's not all sunshine and strawberries. We’ve definitely had our hearts broken, too. Damn you crows for eating our cucumber seeds! Darn you unseasonable frost.

But even those disappointments embolden our tenacity. More netting. More strategic seed placement. More patience before planting. More resilience.

Disappointments embolden our tenacity

And then, there’s something else that happens…

Community Growth

On our street, we know our neighbors. We watch over each others’ homes and care for each others’ pets.

And now, we share food.

This didn’t happen overnight; it was an evolution. Growing and sharing food is contagious.

All the conversations we’ve had about our veggies seem to have influenced many around us. Lawns gave way to gardens. Sidewalks are now accompanied by raised beds. And our community, in tough times like the pandemic and now, is teeming with possibility. Feels more like a revolution, actually.

Growing and sharing food is contagious

Some neighbors share their extraordinary bounty of fresh blueberries and garlic with us. Others drop basil and tomatoes on our front patio. We’ve made many spinach frittatas and veggie pizzas as thank you gifts.

We share our mustard greens, bok choy, and zucchini galore with anyone who wants some. We enjoy a glorious amount of fresh food when the lush summer harvests compel us.

Our community demonstrates what is good in the world: neighbors who share with one another, no matter our careers, backgrounds, or beliefs. Food is the great equalizer, and the perfect way to create, rather than just consume.

So, I invite others to join this food growing movement. Maybe it starts with potted herbs on your balcony? Or a small section of your yard? Or a shared garden patch down the street?

Growing food won’t always be easy, but it will always be liberating. It will foster independence and stronger communities. It will boost moods and elevate wellness. And it will be delightful and enlightening.

That sounds like a victory to me.

Want to grow food and join us in harvesting delight? Please reach out!

Harvesting Delight