How to Begin
Spring is here and so begins the rising of the growing season
The snow is receding. The rain is moving in, and the 4th winter of northern Michigan has come and passed. It’s a turning point in the season that if we didn’t see the spikes of the daffodils or the crocuses first bloom forming we would believe that we are continuing to progress backwards.
The practice of paying attention to the seasons has been a practice in trust in the greater natural cycle that we cannot control but must place our trust within as a member of the greater ecosystem.
Observing the seasons shift here on this hill, I have learned that the frozen days are part of the beginning. The days that pull us back into the old rhythms of the previous season we want to leave behind are part of letting go and moving towards something new. Everything comes in time and rhythm and even if the snow comes and even if the cold doesn’t lift as quickly we want or the clouds lower and the days go gray again, we plant seeds and hope. That is how we begin anything new: We plant seeds and hope.
In the sunlight of spring, I feel as if I could break open in song, but in the gray of spring, I feel slower and secluded like the crocus blossom that has yet to open. I find that beginning is no different.
I think there is an immense lesson on hope and beginning and change in spring that feels hard to swallow and can be quite uncomfortable. If we want anything to change, we must be willing to not just hope but believe we can start anew. Beginning anything. Rising up into a new world. Being tender. Being vulnerable. Growing in a new direction. Trying something new. All of it is hard, and we find ourselves continually in those moments struggling with the days that don’t have the sun and require us to be in the gray space of beginning. Being in the space between where we were and where we are going. Then one day, though it all comes together. The shade is no longer freezing. The leaves of the trees have leafed. The bluebird sings. The first harvest is eaten. The sun heats our bones. The space between what was and what we hoped could be feels much smaller and less tender.
I find this season one of the most enlightening and challenging on my soul. Winter builds resilience and strength in my body, but spring takes that resilience and tests it as we meander through the transition. Yet I also find it the most envigorating. Everything feels like it is beginning and starting. Everything feels raw and tender and exciting all at the same time. We are tender as our calluses are put back into action with the shovel in our hands, and our work gloves feel firm after resting for the winter. Beginning means setting new lines in our routines that aren’t always easy to settle into too quickly despite the desire to. It demands our resilience and attention.
In the sunlight of spring, I feel as if I could break open in song, but in the gray of spring, I feel slower and secluded like the crocus blossom that has yet to open. I find that beginning is no different.
Last year around this time, I was starting a new business. I was so tender. I hadn’t been this new at something so big. Sure, I had run a business before. I had had clients before, but I felt unsure I was worthy to ask to be hired. I sat with a pile of imposter syndrome so deep it felt like a pool I couldn’t wade through alone. I questioned if I could show up, but I did. There were many days I felt tender, vulnerable, and I leaned in to hope, blind optimism, and my resilience to carry me through. I felt the joy of the sun and the despair of the rain and snow just like the spring season itself.
I learned a lot last year about being a beginner. I learned how to be vulnerable in new ways and be bad at something. I also learned to overcome fears and that we can write a new story for our lives if we desire enough to do so. I learned that most of all, the beginning is the most exhilarating and heart racing experience of life. Becoming. Birthing. Beginning. Transforming. Blossoming. These words all rang in my head like a song. I learned that to write a new story for our lives it is only possible if we are comfortable with the messy transition itself. Spring has been my greater teacher of this over and over now. I no longer desire to run from it, but I want to face it even when it feels hard to do so because I know the way it will show me the beauty of this life if we are willing to let it.
Every year, I garner a little bit more amazement for spring. The way the season paces itself just right for its needs. The way it emerges so confidently and yet tenderly. The way it tugs at our heart. The way it brings forth new life. The way it teaches us to hope. The way she one day just unfurls in all her glory in that bright green and yellow tone that feels so rich and alive, you cannot deny that nature is more powerful than we ever could be. I find every emergence of a new plant’s fresh leaves of the return of the morning and evening bird songs like a calm to my soul. I find it all a reminder that even after the dark, we can always begin again. There is always a way to do so if we trust in it, and if any season teaches me optimism, it is this one.
The things I have learned from this mucky and messy few months may be why I believe anything is possible.
Notes for Your Garden Right Now
It’s time to bring back this section of the newsletter. Spring is here, and with it comes our ache for the soil and working with it on whatever level it is. So here are some notes on things I am doing and suggesting to clients in the garden right now:
Make a plan:
Right now is still a wonderful time to dream. I have my design on the table this week. I spend time in my garden every year. I work from my base map and then on patch designs that show my tight-up work and projects on the design. I will actually be walking students through this process in my class, which I discuss below. If you are in the Traverse City area, you may consider coming to learn about this process, which will aid in long-term design work.
Start Thinking about Perennials (particularly trees):
If there is anything I suggest to any landowner, it is to plant more shrubs and trees. You don’t have to invest a ton, but learn how to plan them and do it once the ground is finally workable—aka dried out and not squishy—and new things are springing up. Get your trees from conservancy sales, as they are far cheaper, and young trees establish more easily than older ones.Find a sit spot:
This is a permaculture concept. Basically it is a spot where you can sit at least a few times a week to observe your land you are working on, whether a porch or lots of acres. Having a place where you can sit and watch things change. You can sit and write or draw, but put your phone away. This place will teach you about water movement, your environment, and more.Don’t clean up a god damn thing:
You heard me. Don’t you dare bring out the mower or your clippers right now. LEAVE IT BE. There are a few reasons. First of all, we cannot clip trees now that they are budding. We can make them suspetible to disease from insects or rot from water and more, but also, all the dried dead material is storing insects, so waiting till it all has awakened is essential. This happens after it has been consistently above 50 for over a week. This, for many of us in the north is usually mid to late April. For now, build a fence or do little jobs to prep for the season, but don’t you dare clean anything up yet.Sow some seeds:
If you want to get active, it is now a good time to plant your peas and carrots in the ground actually. They will enjoy the cooler temperatures. You also should be sowing tomatoes and other plants right now that need 4-8 weeks before being planted out. Make sure you start seeds in coco coir or seed starting mix and not compost.
There are still about 10 or so tickets left for this event, even in April. I love talking about gardens and helping gardeners of all skill levels and styles gain awareness about how to build such a beautiful and intentional space for themselves while working with nature.
If you want more information, you can check it out here.
Every season, I make a new playlist, and with the beginning of spring comes a playlist as well. I love taking time to make these lists and pull together new sounds for your season, and selfishly, I love it for myself too. I hope it brings a good background sound to your season ahead.
On my mind this week
Just some things happening and that I am thinking of lately:
Tomatoes:
When we were in Italy, I had the simplest dish of the pici noodles that are common in Tuscany with this red sauce was beautifully earthy, sweet, and as simple as olive oil, tomatoes, garlic, and salt. It was insanely good, and what stood out to me was the description of the dish, which highlighted a certain tomato called the Piennolo. This tomato variety originates from Naples and as our climate warms here in Michigan, I am thinking I can make this plant happen here. The most fascinating part of this tomato is that is can be stored on the vine in your kitchen. I started following a chef and gardener who was experimenting with this on Instagram after our return, and I have been completely focused on making this simple dish again to the point I am trying to locate the exact pasta from Italy because I cannot find it in the US. What I learned in Italy was that in cooking and life it is about the simplest and purest things being the very best and not to settle for anything else that complicates it or fakes these things for you.
Making the most of what we already have:
As we are beginning a reno process in our basement I am working so hard to make use of what already exists. I see the money we make and the energy it takes to work these days as a massive energy source in life. The more we spend, the more we need to work. When we buy less, we in heritagingly buy ourselves more freedom and time in turn. It’s beautiful and that simple. That said, instead of buying a new couch, I decided to take a perfectly good couch and find a new way to cover it. Our couch we have is an old Ikea one and still really good in terms of cushion structure and more, which says a lot because it has seen some things over the last 10 years. Go Ikea. But I discovered you can buy new covers for your Ikea couch frame, and I am anxiously awaiting my samples of fabric so instead of spending $4k on a new sofa, we can buy a washable cover for our current one for $800. Big difference to me. I am trying to find this in all aspects of life these days, and it is honestly really fun. Repainting things and learning to fix them is more enjoyable than hunting online for something. If you are in a similar situation, you can find the covers on this site. Bonus: many of them are upcycled products, too.
How we talk about our bodies as women in front of our children:
I noticed this week that my 5-year-old daughter is very focused on herself in our full-length mirror. She looked at her clothes and her hair and posed in all these ways. I have always been conscious of how I talk about my body in front my children for many reasons, but mostly because I want them to see that bodies aren’t to be ashamed of or hidden, but now more than ever I am conscious of how I portray my feelings about my body and aging to my daughter. I don’t wear much makeup, but I tell her I like wearing mascara because it makes my eyes feel alive, which makes me feel good about myself. I also talk about taking care of my skin because it protects me and makes my body feel good. I discuss these things in terms of her so she sees that caring for ourselves is an act of love to our bodies and not about how we look to someone else. Instead of criticising myself when I am in the mirror with her, I say, “Gosh, look how strong my muscles are, isn’t that cool girls can be so strong?” I want her to see herself as beautiful but not because the world deems it but because she has. I am continually doing this and what’s amazing is how it has slowly shifted my belief in myself right alongside her. I think being a woman is full of dark holes in every direction, but I often think about how I can show my daughter something different no matter what the world tells her.Salads:
This time of year, I get so crazy antsy for the first fresh veggies growing in the tunnels from local farms. The first sweet spinach or arugula is peppery and bright and livens our palettes after living off cabbage and kale all winter as our greens. Eating locally or at least in season has taught me a lot about how to make something bright and exciting out of the same things we have seen for weeks. It has sparked my creativity even when I don’t want it. So right now, I am obsessing over finely chopping up fennel, kale, spinach, apples, cabbage, tossing in some citrus segments and more to create different salads. I have been finding all sorts of salad recipes and really enjoying getting some new ideas this year. I am looking at this book and this one to add to my shelves for more inspiration.Gardening:
I mean, this is always on my brain, but I am really aching for it these days, and I am so excited to start talking about it and doing my work now that the snow is melting on our hill. It feels really good to think about green things again, but to be honest I love the beginning of it. The mess and the cleaning up and everything in between.
The spring guide is here! It is for our paid subscribers so if you aren’t one yet, you can get a discount below to join and get access to a new guide every season. I have big updates coming to the summer one so sign up now.