What matters most


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Until we understand what the land is, we are at odds with everything we touch.

~Wendell Berry

Dear Reader

Last weekend, Joachim and I attended a neighborhood meet-and-greet for a New Hampshire Senate Candidate. When we arrived, we took in the long stretch of cars tucked under the tree canopy with interest and followed the signs directing us through the house into the back garden. It was the quintessential late-summer New England afternoon, a golden sun low in the sky, a few early turning leaves, and almost enough breeze to keep the bugs at bay. Woodsmoke filled the air from a welcoming fire pit, a spread of food was laid out under the trees, and folks were scattered across the garden, some in chairs, some standing, listening intently to a candidate sharing her family immigration story. She was already a few minutes into her talk when we arrived, so we placed ourselves at the edges. Taking in the surroundings and settling in to listen, I caught phrases that piqued my interest. From her personal story, she then shifted to an outline of what she has come to believe matters most.

What matters most. That is an interesting thought in these noisy times of countless storylines; could I perhaps have lost the thread of what really matters? I drifted from her speech and the setting, falling deep into my own thoughts. How might I answer the question: what matters most? As each consideration arose, I tried it on, then weighed one against another, finally returning to the thought that had occurred first: land.

For me, what matters most is how we share and care for this most valuable resource.

If it is cared for with noble intentions, then all else can be aligned from there. When we respect and protect our soil, we also protect our health and well-being. And when we are healthy, we form healthy relationships, and that can lead to the cultivation of resilient communities. That certainly would not have always been my top choice. Other things took precedence, or so I thought.

In my maturing years, I have come to believe that land is also exactly where the great divide begins. Look to your neighbors right and left and behind; do you agree on land care? Even among those who promote conservation, there is no alignment on how to achieve it. But this is not a topic for today, as it would take an entire book to address my concerns. Thankfully, all I need to do is look to the many bold writings of the late Wendell Berry, who shouldered that monumental task for the greater good.

Instead, today I will share a bit about becoming a student of the land and invite you to join me. We were all enrolled in this school at birth but unfortunately spend a lifetime believing there are more important things to do. I realize now that class is in session every day, every season. Whether I attend is my personal choice, but once I began in earnest, I knew it was exactly what has been missing. The lack of participation in this perpetual school is what caused the ache in my heart that nothing else can fill. The Welsh call it hiraeth- the ache and longing for home. It is exactly the void marketing agents spend millions tapping into and fuels our age of consumerism.

The first step to begin the program you are already enrolled in, is to simply commit to showing up. Choose your time and then make it a daily devotion, beecause that is what engaging with the land is. A daily offering, a prayer, mutualism in action. Choose a spot in your own garden, along a path you walk, in a public space, wherever you like, but define it. Then begin to observe. Maybe you take a sketchbook or journal and document what you see. Look for living entities. Who resides there? Maybe you take a photo once a week, touch the plants, discover their names, not only who they are but why they might have chosen this spot to grow. Perhaps this is as far as you take it this season, and that is exactly right for you. Or is there a next step you are called to? You won’t know until you actively commit to observing, and only then will the answer come. Who’s in? Let me know about the space you have chosen and we can all continue to explore this further next week.


Energies I will be noting in the week ahead:

Today, 5 September through the 8th, the Sun is completing it's transit through Gate 64. I'll be considering how can I engage my imagination when confronted with confusion.

Tuesday, 8 September, the Sun begins its transit through Gate 47; subscribe to the Coherence Channel to receive the recorded discussion on the lesson when it drops. The Iching hexagram for this period is translated as Oppression. It is a period of breaking bonds that have held you back. I'll be noting what opportunities arise for me to do just that in these 5.5 days.

Thursday 10 September, 11:27 EDT, we welcome a grounding, earthy New Moon in Virgo. On that same day, Mercury enters Libra, Venus enters Scorpio, and Uranus begins to retrograde in Gemini. So life will feel different, we will gain new perspectives. I'll do my best to keep my impulsive urges in check and integrate what these new lenses offer my discernment.

Until next week,

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Field Notes from Lauren

I began expressing my big Cancer emotions through writing at a very young age. For me, the unique act of writing is what allows me to process and evolve fully . Today, my weekly missives follow themes that weave between the literal fields of my work in the Gemmo Forest, our family homestead garden, and the energy field we all experience. My life now follows the rhythm of the land. From spring through fall, I can be found outdoors, hands in the dirt, working alongside her husband, Joachim, to tend our 7,500-square-foot family garden or with local volunteers caring for Gemmo Forest. When the cold sets in and the fields rest, I return indoors, where I rekindle my love of writing by the wood stove, always with my faithful calico, Ruby, curled close by.

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