Pema Chodron Must Be A Farmer

I think Pema Chodron must be a farmer. I’ve been listening to her most recent book “Comfortable with Uncertainty”, which I have lovingly renamed, “This is stupid, I hate uncertainty, yet I chose the most unpredictable career ever”… This title is a work in progress, recommendations can be left in the comments below :)  Anyway, I digress. I really do have the ultimate respect for Pema Chodron, I remember seeing her at a graduation from Naropa and being so moved, even though I’d studied her for years, her words are simple and poignant and I feel like I want to highlight absolutely ever line she writes. This season has been a doozy so far, not in a bad way, simply in an unpredictable way. Seeds didn’t germinate, weed mat is a blessing and a curse, cucumber beetles decided to try out my dahlias for dinner. There really is always something, and to be honest, I don’t actually mind that, I don’t mind the unpredictability of it, I can roll with things pretty easily, but I see unpredictability and uncertainty as different things. My uncertainty comes up when my emotional self gets involved, and, my emotions are completely involved in farming. I ask myself a lot “am I doing this right?”, what is the “right” way to farm? I don’t think there actually is one. This is where Pema would remind me about my maitri, or loving kindness practice. Essentially meaning that I have to offer myself the love and compassion I need before I can offer it to anyone, or anything else. I have that reminder tattooed on my arm in the form of a line from a poem by Rumi, the line is “So the pearl buys herself”… Maitri is something I do try to practice everyday, especially when I’m in perfectionist, “i’m not doing enough” mode.  Yes, there are certain things to be done on the farm to support the plants and flowers, ways to tend to them to help them thrive, but at the end of the day, I have to trust myself and the plants, we both know what we’re doing, even when we don’t feel like it. My first season of farming was entirely intuitive, I really had no idea what I was doing, and this year I put the pressure on for myself to do it “right”, and I didn’t even realize I had.  Well, I don’t know what the right way to be a flower farmer is, but what I do know is that I want to offer the magic of the flowers to anyone and everyone I can. I know that my days spent with the plants are the best, most peaceful days, I know that this really is soul work for me, and that it will always be supported. The things is though, I see the cycles of farming in my personal life too. What aspects of my life need more tending? My friendships? My relationship? My other job? What needs to be weeded, fertilized, protected from unpredictable weather? Where can I let go a little, give in to uncertainty more? These are practices I work with moment to moment. There’s a teaching in Buddhism, “not too tight, not too lose”, I think it all fits together, I can’t hold on too tight to being the perfect flower farmer, I can lean in to the spaces of uncertainty, but I can’t let go entirely or blackberries probably really will take over the farm, and then I’m going to have to buy a herd of goats so they can eat the blackberries so I can start all over… actually I want nothing more than a herd of goats so that doesn’t sound half bad… my point, in this completely rambling blog post, is that uncertainty makes me feel like i’m falling and there is no net below me. It’s a giant leap of faith, and a whole lot of trust to sit with. These are the lessons that I turn to the flowers for. Our symbiotic relationship reminds me that my experience of uncertainty is no different than theirs. They are as much at the mercy of the climate and weather as I am, yet, they set their roots, they grow their leaves, and they bloom. They have the support of the natural rhythms of life, bees and other pollinators, and me, as their farmer. We really are all in this together. There is no failing if you’re doing what you love. There’s trying, and then trying something different.