Nourishing Bites | A Well Seasoned Pot Part IV
Asclepias speciosa |Here on display: the miraculous work of becoming what one is. Showy Milkweed seed pods crack open so new seed can take flight.
A Well Seasoned Pot
Part 4 of 4 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
This year, on the first day of October, I rinsed and rinsed tomato seeds, one variety after another, then strained them on coffee filters and spread them out to dry.
Flash. It is spring, I am on my knees in the field, I am setting the stocky adolescent plants these seeds came from in the good, sweet Earth, whispering the words my mother taught me: grow little plant, grow.
Flash. I am reading the philosophy of a long time seed farmer, in which she writes of always saving seed from the first tomato to ripen and the very last tomato to ripen because she believes by doing so she will have gleaned the full range of experience that plant possesses-- so this reservoir of wisdom will not be lost.
Flash. I am back at the kitchen sink, silently whispering the words thank you thank you thank you for growing to my tomato seeds- these physical manifestations of endurance, of hope, of what possibility may come from all that has been.
I realize I am standing at this ordinary sink, in this ordinary kitchen, doing this ordinary work, and I am holding the culmination of last season, and the vast possibility of next season in the palm of my ordinary hand. Here, in this ordinary moment, I am holding all of time.
***
My stockpot of farm memories- this mirepoix of past experiences- is now becoming greater than the sum of the parts. The net effect is like a well-seasoned cast iron pot in which each experience layers onto the next a deepening resonance of flavor- creating that intangible but essential umami. Each moment I walk, crawl, or sprint through is a contribution, a new voice or perspective that eventually allows a collective chorus of memory to frame and amplify the many moments from which it arose. The meals, my life, my work, keeps getting richer and more wisdom-filled.
This is the truth of deep relationships, the inextricable connections we have with those people and places we love and lean on, resist and hurt, hold and help. Our memories and connections are alive, not static. Our memories are forever seeking and growing - out of cracks and from around corners. We would be wise to tend to the vast library of experiences together we have created by our joint being, so that tomorrow we grow more resilient, more loving, more connected than today.
Ultimately, layer by layer our past remembrances inform the tone of the feeling and the emotion behind our present experiences. For better or worse, this changes all that has yet to transpire. As we travel the borderlands between summer and fall, between you and me, between this food and this Earth, it’s good to remember exposure to such changes can keep us limber. We must have the courage to kick off our heavy, restrictive shoes- our worn-out ways of thinking and being- and sit down at this collective table with humility, flexibility, and grace. We must ultimately choose. Will we cross the threshold, and together, move into the vital circle of interconnectedness?
Time may feel linear, but our lives are rich with seasoned layers of timeless wisdom that bring all we do, all we are, face to face with the weft and warp of Life herself. When we recognize time as cyclical-- not the mirage of a long, discrete highway our clocks keep tick, tick, ticking by-- something shifts in our relationship to ourselves and to each other.
This I know. In every ordinary moment, there is the possibility for each of us to harvest and hold all of time.
What shall we grow together, with such a gift? ~AJ
Daucus carota | Wild carrot, like humans, contains a multitude.