On Acceptance
October on the homestead
The earth
absorbs
the rain, the wind
the storms
the snow
the sun, the heat.
And turns it into
rainbows and flowers
food
hills and mountains
into rivers
meadows and medicine
Thank you for reading Cultivating a Homegrown Life. This is a monthly mindset post that channels the energy of the month along with personal experiences and things that are happening around the homestead and our lives. This is a free post, but please consider upgrading to a paid membership for access to read-a-loud posts and other exclusive content as well as to support our homesteading journey, the community we’re building together, and the education that we provide (99% of which is completely free and accessible). No matter what option you choose, please know I’m grateful for your attention and support. Onward.
The typical message of this time of year is letting go. The trees let go of their leaves in a beautiful example of embracing change and boldly baring all, signaling that it’s time to turn inward. Most years I embrace this message with fervor. I’m eager to let go of that which is no longer serving me. But this year I’m finding fewer leaves present on my trunk and limbs and I cling to what is here - even if unpleasant. And so, October is acceptance.
What if there is medicine in the evergreens that hold tight to their needles? The prickly ones that lure us in with the only hint of color in the deep winter and their sweet scent. But when you get too close they poke you.
It may seem pessimistic, but this is how life feels right now and I’m honestly too exhausted to adopt the “let go” mindset. Looking ahead at October, there is so much life happening right now, right here, that it feels like I would miss it, that I’d just float through it without noticing, if I didn’t accept it. If I didn’t open my eyes to where I am right now, take one day at a time and just LIVE.
My baby is turning one. Soon he will take his first steps. He will climb and tumble and run. I have been having a hard time tearing my eyes off him as he moves and giggles and plays with his sister. It’s happening so fast and I’m afraid I will miss it. I am already missing it. I’m treading the violent seas of the space between being present and grieving it before it is gone.
I have spent the last two months working tirelessly to plan and think and research for two very big and very different changes in my life. On the last day of September I leaned into this idea of acceptance. This space where only I can live because only I can accept things for myself. A place where opinions and lifestyles and concerns of others are muted - like I’m hearing them underwater - they have a presence but hold no weight.
In this state, it’s clear that there is some room for letting go since I let go of one of these opportunities. And I realized that maybe I just didn’t understand the message all of these years past. Maybe it was muddled by constantly being pushed by social media or the escape of composting food that you let go to waste. You don’t need to feel guilty about wasting food because, hey, you’re composting it. But deep down you know that’s the wrong idea. That this approach is missing the fucking picture.
That’s where acceptance comes in. The realization that got me to where I am today, sharing this energy for the month ahead. There are things beyond our control. There are pieces of our lives that we have to show up in and for and around despite them “not serving us”.
I feel this so viscerally sometimes as a working mom with two young kids, pets and a homestead to care for. I feel resentment bubble up inside me for how much everyone asks of me, expects of me, takes from me on a daily basis. I wonder how it is not occurring to those around me that I need help. I am not as strong as capable as unyielding as it may seem and I am about to break. But I cannot break and I cannot yield and I cannot let go of feeding my family, cleaning my house, going to work, getting an oil change, paying my outrageous electrical bill, etc. I know that I am not innocent in this lack of help and this siphon that life seems to have connected to me without my consent. I’m working on being better at accepting help, better at asking for it.
The prescription given to the overwhelmed multi-passionate mother is always to let go of hobbies and outsource time-consuming tasks. It’s October, let go of the garden. Just buy the bread. It’s okay to order takeout. While I do let up on a lot of these fronts when days are short and time is running out, these hobbies and the tasks that require my hands to mold and create are the ones that pour energy back into my life through pride and self-worth. It’s not the solution, it’s a recipe for disconnection, and I’m determined to find another way.
Waking up to this new perspective - that while I’m open to change and I can seek it, I should also keep a real and unbiased eye on my life as I am living it right now - made me realize just how much I had one foot in a different door. I realized just how much my life was being influenced by those who aren’t experiencing it. My path to reclaiming it, to trusting my thoughts as my own, is first accepting it.
So, in a way, October is letting go. It’s letting go of judgments, opinions, and influence of others in an effort to accept myself and my current position in life. There may be prickly moments this month, when I get too close to those pine needles, but am I really present if I’m not getting pricked? Overall I sense a very healing energy, even in the challenging moments.
What does this look like in practice? IRL?
less online, more in person
working the soil, planning and prepping while also tending to what is currently there
clearing out damaged plants (both from the hurricane storms and end of season)
expanding
nurturing what I can for the longevity of the garden
a lot of reading and quiet moments to myself
seeking plants for medicine and healing (focusing on finding a deeper connection with plants in this way)
nature walks for clarity and disconnection with society (to connect with myself)
I’m unsure of what Cultivate Curiosity will look like next spring or where it will be held, but I’m not letting that stop me from pushing forward. Rory saw a picture from garden club this week and said she wanted to do that again. So, I’ll be hosting a pay-what-you-can kids class in November where we will inaugurate the new dedicated kids garden on our homestead (for my kids and maybe to keep hosting public classes) and plant garlic. Stay tuned.
Love your list for tuning into your own wisdom…May October bring you the healing energy you seek!