Yesterday I saw The Biggest Little Farm, a documentary about a couple who bought 200 acres of land an hour north of Los Angeles to fulfill their dream of creating and running a farm the old fashioned way. The soil was dead. They had no experience. Everyone thought it was crazy.
They did it anyway.
I won’t tell you the whole story but I will say, it’s a happy and inspiring one that had me sobbing at the end. It was the kind of crying that could have, had I been alone, gotten very loud and snotty and gone on for hours because the movie tapped into something I didn’t expect.
It made me think of Trump.
This couple, and the many who dedicated themselves to the farm, healed the land by embracing RADICAL diversity, by being responsive rather than reactive, by observing and questioning, and by trusting in nature. They healed the land and the land returned a bounty, a rich earth teaming with nutrients and food and flower and life. There was heartache and loss and hard hard work and so much beauty.
It was a story of people being creative faithfilled stewards of the land, celebrating and honoring the miracle of this planet and the creatures we share it with, from the big bull in the field to the invisible microorganisms beneath his feet.
What made me cry was knowing that every President we’ve had would have be moved by this movie. They would have felt gratitude and hope for the restoration, the harmony born from honoring diversity, grappling with complexity. They would have felt reverence for this life, this land, and for embracing a deep sense of responsibility and purpose.
Except for Trump.
The man now ‘leading’ our country is deeply disturbed, is unable to feel, to care, to appreciate anything of value and that breaks my heart.
Usually I walk around feeling horrified and enraged by what he and his many enablers are doing but at that moment, I was heartbroken.
What if I ended this here? Okie-dokie, everybody. Have a good week!
I won’t do that.
I also won’t try to put a smiley face on things.
I think it’s a Both/And situation, just like that picture above–the field is vibrant yellow AND the skies are dark.
The situation is dire. AND there is hope.
Our country is in trouble. And I believe in us.
Diversity will save us. If we let it.
It’s up to us to cultivate it in our lives, in the obvious and not so obvious ways.
We cannot look away. AND we must sometimes look toward other things, the things that open us, fill us, widen us, lift us, nourish us, replenish us, delight and strengthen us.
What are some of those things for you? Do you know? Write them down and post it where you can see it every day.
This is our own soil restoration. This is how we tend to our soul.