I'm Not a Genie

Growing up I had an affinity for genies.  I loved watching I dream of Genie and was fancied by the blue genie in Aladdin. I recently realized that for the majority of my life I was living like a genie.

Like a genie, my life was devoted to the people who came into my life. I would ask myself how I could best serve them. What I could do to make them happy.  I worked tirelessly to grant wishes, even if they didn't align with my own. I thought life revolved around pleasing the people around me. And as every genie knows, it is impossible to please everyone at once. I found myself in a balancing act between acting one way around some and another way around others. My true self was lost somewhere in the middle. It was exhausting. The funny part is that I actually thought that was how life was supposed to be. I actually thought that the solution to my own unhappiness was seeking to make others happy. I had glimpses of true freedom- the moments where I would say no and set boundaries, and the times where I would listen to my intuition rather than the whirls of opinion. But the sense of obligation I felt often overpowered that truth. I had a false sense of happiness, peace, and love. One where I was bound to others in such a way that I had lost my self.


I now know true freedom. One where I don't need people to tell me they love me to feel love. I don't need others to accept me to feel acceptance. I don't need anyone to physically comfort me to feel comforted. I don't need to depend on others to feel genuine happiness.  I am free. Limited only by the limitations I think to be true.

That little lamp, that old way of thinking and behaving, is too small for the abundance of love, serenity, and abundance that now fill my life. I am grateful to finally be free.

Life

Today is a significant day. Today is a day to celebrate life. To celebrate all the joy, serenity, and compassion that fills this world. Today is a day to appreciate all the feelings of sorrow and fear. The feelings that give us the opportunity to grow beyond what may be holding us back.


Today is another day to choose life.


Seven months ago Dad passed. My heart has felt empty, my body heavy, my mind flooded in chaos. Every day since has been a journey to repair myself, to fill the gaps and release the fears, to make myself feel whole. At the beginning of that journey I found that wine released my mind, and that marijuana relaxed my body. As time went on I realized that what I thought was helping me was actually taking away from my own life. I was seeking instant, outside relief that was doing more harm than good. Like remodeling an old home without tending to the weak foundation. It may look okay from the outside, but it is sure to collapse with time.


Yet I have found the strength and courage to face my fears. To actually look inside and work towards healing myself one day at a time. It has been challenging. But in life, overcoming a challenge is what brings the richest rewards. Through breathing exercises, meditation, yoga, and prayer I have began to and continue to heal. Every day is a new day to continue practicing my life. Every day is filled with moments where I choose life.

Today is a significant day. As is every day. Let us cherish what we have and gather the courage to work towards what we want.

May we all be blessed with life.

My Story

I had always been intrigued by the idea of past lives, karma, reincarnation, and energy. Then I happened to talk to one of my Papa's friends, the late Sid Levinsohn, who helped guide me onto a path of believing that anything is possible. He helped teach me that humans are great beings, capable of self-healing through their beliefs and thought. That the world is what we believe it to be.

I went to college wanting to study alternative medicine, yet I couldn't find an area of study that matched what I was seeking. My sophomore year I started to study pre-med, convinced that I could study to be a doctor and than practice alternative methods instead. That was a funny attempt that dropped my name off the honor roll. I wasn't committed to learning physics and chemistry in large lecture halls where I could hardly understand or see the professor. I chose to study Anthropology. Mostly because it offered  classes on a variety of topics. From biology to the social construction of the self, it seemed like it had it all. Plus, in most of my classes we sat in a circle. Still in the back of my mind I wanted to know more about alternative healing methods.

In my free time I volunteered. I volunteered with many public health organizations. I even had an epiphany! I didn't need to be a doctor, I could help heal people through preventative care. Help people before they ended up at the doctor's office. So I dressed up like a tooth fairy, wings and all,  and went to elementary schools to talk to little people about dental health. I dressed up in slacks and went to elderly homes and talked to wise people about arthritis. I dressed in sneakers and talked to confused college people about sexual health. I was convinced, information would save the world.

Then I took a course called Meat and Drink in America (thank you Dr. Don Stull). And after an independent research project on the kosher food industry, I started to question where my food was coming from. Then I watched Food Inc. That was that. I was destined to be a farmer. And I had an epiphany. I could save the world by growing beautiful, nutritious food.

So I worked on an urban farm in Berkeley and learned more in depth about our broken food system and the social consequences of the system. I went to Alaska and learned how to care for a farm. And then I went to Kauai, mostly because I wanted to extend my growing season.

Here I am in Kauai, working and living at a place that practices Ayurveda. I didn't know a thing about Ayurveda before coming here. Ayurveda literally translates to the knowledge, wisdom, and spiritual science of life and longevity.  Ayurveda is a holistic healthcare system, encompassing the mind, body, and spirit. It is an ancient tradition of healing. It is the alternative approach to medicine that I had been seeking. Now, as I am studying to become an Ayurvedic Counselor, I realized something.  I can't save the world.

I can't save the world. But I can help heal it. I can help heal the world by teaching others, growing nourishing food, and practicing Ayurveda. Most of all, I can help heal the world by believing that the world can be healed.

As someone very wise once said...

Heal yourself, heal the world. 

Thank you to everyone-- passed,  living, and beyond-- who helped guide me to where I am today.

Transition

My journey in Alaska has come to an end. As with everything, as one journey ends another adventure begins. Lucky for me I have found myself in paradise for the next few months, just a flight away from Kauai.

What better time to reflect than when sitting in an airport - the ultimate space of transition.

                      

April
I arrived in Alaska nearly 6 months ago along with 2 large duffel bags, a backpack, and a purse. I now head to Kauai carrying all my belongings on my back.

May
I came to Alaska with the support and love of all my family. I head along on my journey without one of my pillars, without my dad in my life. Oh how much that hurts me.

June
I went to Alaska with a dream that I may someday have a farm of my own. I leave with land waiting for me in Minnesota, and with the business license to Muddy Feet Farm.

Farm Logo. Designed and Drawn by Sonya Montenegro

July
I came to Alaska with habits of washing with shampoo. I now leave using baking soda and essential oils to wash.

August
I arrived in Alaska as a picky meat eater, only eating local grass fed or free range animals. After watching a chicken slaughter, I leave as a gametarian, choosing to eat only wild animals.

September
I arrived in Alaska without knowing anyone, and without much expectation. I leave having seen the northern lights dancing in the sky, absolutely amazing new friends, a tattoo, the support of a new family (the calypso fam), the confidence to farm on my own, a harmonica, cooking and crafting skills, the greatest experience of my life thus far, and so much more.

To Life and Not To Death

Dad,
Thank you for making me who I am. Adventurous, a great packer, loving, creative, a bit stubborn, honest, and grateful for all that I have- only to name a few.

It's painful to know that I can't share my adventures with you. I hate that you are gone. Yet through it all I know you are always with me and I will always live to make you proud.
PS- I packed so well, you'd hardly believe it!

My adventure to become a farmer continues... Version Kauai.0

BE true to yourself.
LOVE all life.
GROW the change you want to see.

Thinking

I was sitting in the lower field eating some lunch when I noticed a small black ant carrying something three times it's size. It wasn't surprising, I mean that's just what ants do. A fly landed on my skirt and instead of mindlessly swatting it away I took a moment to admire it's ginormous eyes. Not surprising, flies just have really big eyes. A spider crawled up my arm. I gently picked it up and set it on the ground beside me, letting it continue on with whatever it is that spiders do. From the porch behind me I could hear the buzzing of hundreds of bees gathering at their boxes. I wasn't surprised at how active they were. Gathering pollen on a warm sunny day is just what honeybees do.

Amidst all of the earth's little creatures I was sitting, a big human sitting and thinking. Thinking about how easily I could squish an ant, swat a fly, or kill a spider. So often that is just what humans do. Something has changed for me, though. I don't do any of those things.

We are all a part of a very big ecosystem. Each little insect has a role in this world, every microbe has a job.  Our jobs aren't as clear. We have the ability to think about what we want to do rather than just do. We create options and if we are lucky we find our paths, or the thing that we are meant to do. The thing that makes our hearts happy.  I am blessed to feel so connected to something. I feel so connected to this earth, and I see myself as a just a small piece in this very big ecosystem. I am not surprised by all the "simple" things that each insect does each day, but I am amazed. I think the novelty will always be there. As an organic farmer (in training), I see it as my job to respect all energy, microscopic and humongous. To try my best to understand the natural systems in this world and see how I can work with those systems and not against.

It's easy to bulldoze an acre, or hundreds, and make things grow. It's convenient to have acres and acres of one crop growing. It's easier to spray chemicals on your crop than to deter the pests organically. It's faster to harvest when things are uniform, and simple tasks make for cheap labor. Yet I am convinced that there is a better way. And I am not the only one that thinks so. Understand that when you buy a conventionally grown tomato from the grocery store you are saying yes to large scale, convenient agriculture. I think it is our job to think before doing. Ask questions. Support small-scale, local farmers. It's easy to get into a routine, to do without thinking why first.  Before you buy the brand name, or squash the spider that crawls on your arm, take a moment and ask why. Let's do what humans are meant to do... let's think before we just do.

Empty Space

I've recently learned a lot about weeding and cultivation. Selectively pulling out plants so you can plant what you want to see grow, and managing the weeds as they creep in. One thing that goes along with weeding is that you end up with a lot of empty space, bare ground where plants or weeds once covered. And empty space in a garden just calls out for more weed invasions. Chickweed is a common weed around here. It starts off tiny and innocent and the next thing you know it has gone to seed and covered the entire garden. So one technique is to weed, or cultivate the chickweed and then plant something else in the space where it once grew. You can plant flowers that keep pests away and attract beneficial insects. Or you could plant other veggies that pair well with the one you want to grow. There are so many ways to fill empty space in a garden, transforming the bare into a beautiful, functional place. No matter how you fill the space though, the weeds are likely to come back again and again. However, as you persistently cultivate they will be less intense as time goes on.

Today is the 7th. June 7th. One month since I received an awful call explaining that my dad died. That is some heavy information. So heavy that I'm not quite sure how to process it. And it's odd how something so heavy, so intense has left me feeling so empty. There is this hole, this bare space in my heart. And I find myself trying to fill the empty negative space with positive things. I call my loved ones more than I ever have. I spend my time outside filling my mind with natural beauty and keeping my body busy with things to do. I am filling my empty space as best as I know how. And then there are moments and days where my sorrow creeps in, the chickweed creeps in, and it seems unmanageable. And I have to decide how to handle it.

All of this sorrow has given me great perspective. I know how important it is to appreciate every individual and every thing in my life. How great it is to feel joy and express laughter. And to appreciate the little things, like how wonderful it is when a bed is free of weeds- or at least has less than the day before.

In farming there is always weeding and cultivating to be done. It is how empty space is filled that determines the condition and success of the farm in the future.

As I have said many times before and will continue to say many times after, there really is a lot to be learned from farming.

One Bed at a Time

Growing up, our backyard neighbors had a beautiful garden. They had corn and sunflowers, cucumbers and tomatoes. It was such a special place for all the neighbors to see. As I grew older so too did the neighbors. The woman became sick and no longer gardened. The man stopped soon after. I remember coming home from college and the garden looked so sad and lonely, overgrown and neglected. I told my dad just recently that I wanted to garden in their yard, that I wanted to make that space beautiful again.

Now I am home, waiting for my dad to return home as well. Waiting to have a funeral, waiting for closure. What does one do while they wait?

The other day that man gave me permission to garden in his yard. The first day I walked over with a shovel and a rake. I got in there and started to pull out the dandelions and grass that came up to my knees. I realized this was a big job, maybe an impossible job and I needed a garden fork. So I went to a neighbors and they lent me their fork, giving me their condolences as I walked away.

The second day I kept weeding, and formed a few beds where peas were to go. Another neighbor came out and invited me in for water and a cookie. We chatted, she hugged me, and with her condolences back to the garden I went.

The third day I continued my work. So much work to be done. Three neighbor kids came over with plants and seeds in their arms, things they wanted to see grow in the garden. I told them I'll make space for their things and we could all plant together.

Yesterday I was forming another bed, weeding and shaping the space. Listening to the birds chirping, the leaves crunching. Watching the creepy crawlies in the soil, the worms and ants all doing exactly what they are meant to do. I looked up and was surprised at what I saw. A garden. This was really becoming a garden. Mounded beds for cucumbers. A trellis for the peas. Dill, cilantro, and basil. Onions too. Here I was, weeding and shaping one bed at a time. Not even realizing all my work was creating a garden.

I hear people do crazy things when they lose somebody. That crazy thing for me has been gardening. Gardening a space that I won't even be here to care for and to see grow. Yet here are all the neighbors. Here are all these people excited to see this garden, happy to help where they can. One says he will come out and water it, another says she will guide the cucumbers' vines in the right direction. How beautiful it is to see a community come together and care for one another. How wonderful it is for neighbors to come together and garden.

So here I am waiting. Waiting for so many things. Yet I have to remember, take one day at a time. Take one hour at a time, one weed at a time. And slowly but definitely everything I do will piece together just as it should. How lucky I am to have the time to create such a beautiful space for the neighbors to share. My dad would be so proud.

Precious Moments

There is a lot to be learned from farming, beyond the farming itself. I'm talking about life lessons like patience, resilience, courage, and fostering community.

If you jump the gun and plant too early there is a chance that a frost will still come and the plants won't thrive. Patience is key.

If you plant bed after bed with lettuce and pests keep coming and eating all your crop you keep trying different methods until you find one that works. Resilience.

When something comes up that you have never experienced before you greet the challenge. Courage.

And when the challenge is too tough for one person to handle you ask your neighbors and friends for help and guidance. Community.

Ever since I saw a basil plant go to seed I felt something magical occurring. Here was this leafy, delicate plant about to die. What was it doing? It was bolting - putting up this big shoot, doubling it's size, that many flowers would soon grow from. It didn't just shrivel up and turn brown. It grew and grew. It attracted various pollinators with its many flowers and then it went to seed. The sign of a dying plant is one that is producing it's seed. Getting ready to live on through generations to come.

I'm not quite ready to believe that my dad is really gone, but that time may never come. I feel comforted thinking about the lessons and cycles of farming. That death brings new life. When I think of death as a bolting plant I feel comforted. I feel comforted thinking that my dad went to seed, that death is not final and all the memories that we hold of him will carry him through many more generations. The heartache I feel will not pass soon. Patience, resilience, and courage will get me through. Above all, my sisters, family and friends- my community- will bring comfort and give guidance when I need it most.

Oh how surprising life can be. Each challenge along the way helps create who we are and the life story we leave behind.

I have big plans for my future. I'll be the first to say that the future makes me a little nervous. Unpredictability makes me nervous. Not knowing makes me nervous.

There is something out there that tells a seed when to sprout and a plant when to seed. I find comfort in knowing that some things are simply beyond my control.

I love you forever, Dad.

Blisters & Dirt

I spent hours splitting wood before I finally got the flow down. Swing it back and up, move your hand down the handle and let the force of the maul crack down on the wood. My left hand started to blister so I put on a work glove and continued at it. I looked down later and saw dried blood on my right fingers where the skin must have rubbed right off. It was pretty cold out so I hadn't noticed. I put on another work glove and continued on, determined to split each log on the first blow.

If you looked at my palms you would know that I have been hard at work. Splinters, mending cuts, and blisters neighbor each other while open gaps are quickly filled with dirt. You would see the soil beneath my short nails and the various marks that I have accumulated while I have been here. I am recognizing my body's resilience and appreciating my ability to heal. So often one will become accustomed to putting a band aid on every cut, and washing hands meticulously to stay healthy. I think those habits are completely respectable and at the same time I am finding that my 'rustic' lifestyle is breaking those norms. I accumulate a week's worth of dirt before washing it away, I share silverware and plates to save dishes, I sometimes wash my hands with soap, and I have been switching between two pairs of pants for the last three weeks.

You may think that all of that is gross and that is okay. I may think that you are too clean. What I am getting at is this... I am the healthiest I have been in my entire life. I wake up with good energy, work hard until night, and am ready to repeat the cycle the next day. My appetite is strong, my mind is clear, and I am happy. Each splinter and cut is a lesson learned, mostly to remember when to wear work gloves.  But most of all, every mark that I have earned is a reminder that when your heart is happy hard work does not feel like work at all.

Big Footprints

I had a dream two days ago about moving to Alaska. There was so much snow that I had to step in the big footprints before me to get to where I needed to be.

Now, in real life, I am in Alaska stepping in those big footprints that I dreamt about... literally. I was doing a lot of following today. Took a tour around the place, and went right into working. I have to say, the footsteps made a convenient path for me, without them I would have been lost. At the same time, it was difficult to walk in steps much larger than my own. I stumbled going up a hill, down a hill, up a hill, and down a hill again. I fell out of the path a few times and ended up knee high in the snow. But by the end of the day I went knee deep to create a path of my very own, which happened to have the destination of a propane tank that needed to be changed.

Every footstep I followed today I thought of that dream.

What does it take to become an organic farmer? Skill? Knowledge? Experience? Yea, those thing help. But what it really takes is passion and drive. It takes courage to push the fear of failure aside. So many wonder why I am doing what I am doing, what it will lead to, and how I plan to make money.

My answer to all of those questions is that I don't exactly know, but I do know that my heart overflows with joy when I am in nature doing this work.

There are many people who have created a path before me, and I am grateful to learn from you all. Now I realize it is my turn to create my own path, fearless of taking a wrong step.

So here I am, on my path to become an organic farmer.