When I reach the end of the row of beans I am trellising, I often want to stop and open my arms wide, palms skyward in memory. For this reaching outward with no framework is the same trust I, like other land stewards, employ.  We have no other choice.  We must trust the process of expansion into the unknown.

Trusting as a practice is like learning to dance with your dream in a way that allows a flourishing of both partners - at times I lead, at times I let my Dream lead. This is the same trust I employ in the fields. Farming in its highest form is a conversation with Nature.

Understanding what and how we are meant to share our gifts— this does not happen overnight.  It requires getting back up again when things don’t quite pan out and diligently working, little by little, to move ourselves and our world forward toward kindness and integrity. 

As I look back on my now fifteen year farming journey, I see how everything I handle on the farm appears to be very discrete and separate challenges.  And yet, my beautiful, wild, generous, fascinating farm proves how often such audacious dreams really are different siblings of the same beguiling family.  

Committing to doing something every day forever is daunting and unrealistic.  Instead, it’s good to take a lesson from the farm and commit with intention to doing something every day for a certain season of your life. That can make everything more manageable.

I often write about my love for integrated approaches to farming.  One fascinating way the beauty and power of a systems approach is manifested is in relation to how we tackle the work of solving challenges or problems.  It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking big problems call for grand, complex solutions.  But that’s not always the case.