Winter Solstice
the dark has something to teach us
Part of the reason for my being, and the being of SHEGROWS, is to share the story of personal growth through the metaphors found in a garden. My journey from gardening to farming started by sharing how the garden has helped me heal the wounds of losing my mother as a child. But I’ve always hoped that by sharing my personal story, and all the tiny struggles and victories throughout the gardening season, others would find their own reflection, go through their own transformation, and find their own essence.
But I don’t feel like I’m succeeding.
I’ve shared victories along the way with lots of beautiful pictures of flowers, but I’ve gotten timid to share the struggles.
Nervous that my customers need to see confidence,
Nervous that my followers only want to see the beauty of farming,
And nervous for my own sake, that if I don’t focus on the positive, I’ll fail.
These phrases are ingrained in our culture, aren’t they? Think about your own mantra.
But why? Our culture is obsessed with watching dramatic movies and reading suspenseful trilogies. The thing these all have in common is conflict, seen as darkness, yet we don’t want to talk about the conflict in our stories and we allow it to cripple us from chasing our dream. If we know conflict is what draws us to a good story then why are we afraid to share it, and if we know that all success comes with some failures then why are we afraid to fail.
So, back to me sharing my failures.
The winter solstice is today, the very darkest day of the year, and it always forces me to contemplate my own mortality—my fears, my flaws, and my failures. There are many theories on darkness, spanning science to spirituality, but the more my work aligns with the seasons, the more I understand and appreciate each one. Poetically speaking, living in darkness 15 hours a day today my eyes seem to adjust and I begin to see things I don’t normally see. For example, there isn’t as much beauty grabbing my attention this time of year, like harvesting armloads of Cafe au Lait dahlias out of the field. It’s now the huge shadows I see, like realizing that even though my kids are teenagers now, they need my attention more than ever. While farming has allowed me to physically work from home, if I can’t turn it off and be present than I might as well be working in a cubicle in the city. I’m sure this is true for many of us now working from home.
This is exactly why I’m recommitting myself to not be afraid of the dark, of sharing the struggles that comes with chasing a dream and living authentically. The dark is one of our greatest teachers. It is like turning the soil over in your garden to find it either rich with life, or hardened by life’s struggles. Whats on top of the soil will reflect what’s underneath the soil. And I’ll be honest—I’ve never outgrown getting my hands dirty.
THE WINTER SOLSTICE CLEANSE —a new type of cleanse
Something I like doing during the darkest part of the season, is to add closure by doing an inventory of thoughts holding me back so I can make room for goodness to come. These are things that didn’t work this year either on the farm or in my life—the failures, the struggles, the deficiencies.
Over the years, I’ve done this at different times but the quiet space around Winter Solstice & New Years seems to reflect the mood and the season just right. Here is what I do:
Seeing the Darkness
HARD STRUCTURES- First, I get utterly honest with myself about the things I can’t change. These are hard facts….the age of my kids, the growing conditions of my zone, the money in my bank account, etc. These are the edges of your canvas, or garden per se. Sometimes people think they can’t create something meaningful because they don’t have_____. I say, creativity starts when you have boundaries. It’s more overwhelming when you don’t know if your canvas is 12x12 inches or 120x120 feet. Dream big but know where the edges of your canvas are THIS year. It may change in the future but this year, what does your canvas look like? I literally take a sheet of paper in my journal, drawn a big box, and write these fixed items in the box. (For me, one example is that my children are teenagers and they need my presence and mental strength in the evenings and weekends. This means I can not take my flowers to Farmers Markets because they happen on weekends, and our Apprenticeship program can now only happen M-F.) This is now non-negotiable in my mind and I don’t have to think about it when markets send me invitations, or when we are planning our apprentice program for next season. Knowing this boundary, it now takes less energy to say no.
SOFT STRUCTURES - Secondly, get utterly honest about the things you can change. These are the facts that you can control….how much you share with followers on social media, how well you plan your garden, how well you purchase your supplies, how well you train your team, how well you utilize your strengths and find others to fill in your weaknesses. These are skills and areas of your life that you can improve. These require self awareness and discipline. I ask my family, friends, and team for feedback on where they see my strengths, weaknesses, successes, and failures. I don’t take this personal anymore, I see this as a gift. I’ve shifted my desire to become a master at what I’m good at, instead of trying to be mediocre at everything, and I need help getting clear sometimes. Its much more fun to focus of the things I enjoy too! I write these truths down on a different sheet of paper and when it comes time to make a dream board for the new year (which I do on NYE), I add the positive things to the board so I can be reminded of them daily.
CLEANSE - Once I’ve identified these different components, I write the things that don’t serve me well on a sheet of paper—hard and soft facts like being afraid to share the struggles of starting a farm, saying no to Farmers Markets, getting over the rejection of losing a 5 acre city land proposal, etc. Then I find a way to physically let them go. Because this year we are spending the solstice at the beach, I plan to walk to the end of the Manhattan Pier this evening at sunset, light my (little) sheet of paper with a match, then witness the ash fly into the ocean. In years past, I’ve thrown them into the fire and into the compost pile. Wherever you are at, sometime during this winter season, find a way to physically let go of the thoughts that hold you back. I find that when I do this my mind opens up to fresh new ideas.
There is power in simply acknowledging the darkness, bringing it to the surface, and allowing good stuff to build up on-top. If we allow our eyes to see in the darkness, instead of masking it with lights and gifts, we can normally learn something important about ourselves.
Growing up, I was fiercely afraid of the dark—and admittedly, this year I could have been seen running back to the house from the barn as fast as my legs would run when I worked too late in the studio. But if there is one thing for sure, there will always be darkness, and I know when I’m not alone in the dark it doesn’t seem as scary. So, expect more of the pretty, and not so pretty, TRUTH this year. I think we are all ready for it!
Right there with you,
Gina