Harvesting organic lettuce on the urban farm in Deep River

2022 was our second year stewarding re.Planted Farm and it was a year that exceeded all expectations.

The success we achieved in 2022 could not have been possible without wisdom from Above, the help of my husband and volunteers, and support from our local community.

Despite there being so much to celebrate, I went through the year feeling a deep sense of heaviness in my spirit that I just couldn’t shake off. It was like a cloud of darkness that lingered over me all year long.

What I was struggling with in 2022, was actually residual emotions of events that occurred in 2021; the deception of a friend, a great personal loss, and some major obstacles in our family.

Tending the market gardens, while dealing with these emotionally complex personal challenges, made me more receptive to the garden ‘speaking’ to me. Not literally, of course, but my mind more quickly drew parallels from the garden, that I could apply to my own situation.

Good ol’ fashioned garden therapy.

I want to share some of those with you.

Harvesting organic onions at re.Planted Farm in Deep River, Ontario

1) What we often see are indicators of what’s happening beneath the surface

We have managed to convert two biologically dead lawns into thriving market gardens that host and feed a plethora of micro- and macro-organisms. At re.Planted Farm we’ve chosen to prioritize soil life above all else, which means we use inputs like fermented plant juice teas and annual compost applications, to build and keep soil life happy and healthy. Much of the work we have done so far has initial unseen effects. But the more consistently we take care of the soil, the better soil life is able to support plant life each season. 2022 was the season we began to see the ‘unseen’ impact of our soil-building efforts through the years manifest in the physical health and productivity of our plants.

And like soil life, the unseen parts of us need to be taken care of diligently and consistently. If we neglect our personal well-being, it begins to show on the surface, in the physical.

In 2021 & 2022, I let the ball drop on my self-care, and it had compounding effects. Once the 2022 seasons began to pick up in April, I found myself pitifully exhausted and unable to keep up with the physical demands of farming.

Not only was I burdened with emotional heaviness, but I was contending with the consequences of self-neglect. The unseen impacts of my personal neglect manifested in poor physical health.

Tulip Harvest from Flower Farm & Florist in Deep River, Ontario, Ottawa Valley

2) Balance

Nature is in constant pursuit of equilibrium. One swing to the left results in a swing to the right with equal force, until slowly, but surely, the middle is found. Nature does this dance at micro- and macro-levels, and at any given moment various balancing acts are being performed to reach the ever-sought-out equilibrium.

The cure I needed was balance. I needed to recalibrate. I had swung the pendulum too far in one direction. I needed to confront the challenges I was facing head-on, and allow myself the grace to feel the pain, confusion, and disappointment I was ignoring, so that I could restore the rituals that allowed me to effectively perform life’s many balancing acts.

What swung my pendulum too far was how I spent the winter of 2021/2022.

That winter, I never allowed myself to rest and i used business as a mechanism I used to push my worries away. The 2021 season had ended but I refused to quit. In the emotionally frail state, I was in, this is what pushed my body and mind out of balance.

So I’ve determined Winter 2022/2023 is going to be different. I decided to put a hard stop to farm-related work in November. I signed up for a gym subscription. I took myself out for dinner a few times. I watched ridiculous shows. I cooked. I cleaned. I decided, like nature, I would pursue equilibrium.

This much needed rest and recalibration has already begun to fuel my desire and drive for Season 2023.

Flower Farm & Florist in Deep River, Ontario, Ottawa Valley — *Fall Bouquet Grown and Arranged by re.Planted Farm*

3) Trust the Process

We’re all on a journey and it usually involes a process.

Once a seed germinates, it follows a process before it can become a mature plant, capable of producing fruit or flowers to then continue its progeny. Nature doesn’t skip steps. Everything follows a process. More often than not, it’s a painfully slow process. That process is different for each plant, animal, and person, but a process exists. The process should be respected. The process should be trusted.

Trusting that you're going through a process that will result in a holistically-mature being that is capable of so much that won’t just benefit you, but the world around you.

Organic Flower & Vegetable Farm Workshops in the Ottawa Valley — *Farm to Fork to Vase Workshop in July*

4) Community is Everything

It helps to go through this journey of life with a community.

There’s an undeniably complex interconnected weave of life that forms the large community we call ‘nature’. One species depends on another, who in turn depends on another, and so on, forevermore.

Everything works in collaboration to support and sustain one another.

I’m so fortunate to be a part of a community that operates just like this.

Each week through the season, during our weekly farm market, I got to interact with members of our community. It was the highlight of my week and enabled me to get through an emotionally challenging season.

My desire is to continue to contribute to this community, and facilitate events and activities on the urban farm that will allow community members to deeply engage with one another in 2023. I want to facilitate networks where we can support and sustain the overall well-being of each individual. That’s one of my goals for 2023.

5) Worry & Fear dim Joy & Beauty

Gardening is a joyful endeavor. A lot of that joy was stolen this season by my worry and fear. My fear and worry altered the way I viewed my environment in 2022. The beauty of the world around me was lost on me for a while.

Life is filled with so much beauty, and yet so much of it is missed.

But it’s in allowing ourselves a moment, to take in the beauty, and feel the joy of being in the garden, that slowly, our worries and fears begin to fall into their proper place in life. They don’t disappear, but they don’t take over.

In 2023, I vow to dedicate time to simply existing in the garden. Not weedings. Not harvesting. Just to be there, to be enveloped with a busy bee, to follow a persevering ant, and to sing with the chickadees.

To simply enjoy the garden, and let it dispel my worries and fears, even if just for a moment.

Happy New Year,

Akos