Equinox is a reminder to shift gears. It’s time to distill things down to the essence.  Our human lives need calming simplicity so that we can grasp the gorgeousness of diversity, so that we can hold space for all we can’t understand, so that we can respect the intelligence of the deep adversity inherent in working, healthy systems. 

Another revolution of food production, of network connections, of sharing and caring and being in this world together is moving closer toward completion. Mentally, this time of year is a different dance.  One moment I’m rested enough to delight in hopeful dreams of big changes for the coming year, the next I think only of moving one foot in front of the other. 

Over the years, I’ve written quite a bit about my belief in systems thinking, that we are all connected, that my farm is full of intricate, never-ending exchanges and interactions of a complexity hard to imagine.  Yes... hard to imagine until smoke fills our skies and we realize how even clean air is a common language.

Fall is the time of year things start to come full circle and I begin to question what I think I know.  I become curious about the disconnect between my expectations and the actual experience of my life. 

Food, no matter the ding or cut or bruise or blemish, intrinsically has worth. When I pick up something not grown or raised at my farm, I am filled with a sense of compassion and concern for the humans and the soil and the plants and the animals that surely weathered more than I can ever know to make what I am holding possible.

The gift of farm grade produce is that it's a visual reminder to take a big step back from exacting perfection and stand firmly in a place of exultation and amazement that anything at all came to fruition. All food is a sheer miracle.