Turning the Compost Pile

I started writing “This Wholehearted Life” five years ago to enjoy and share a “Year of Living Naturally” as I settled into my new life on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia.

This was just three months before the onset of Covid, and while the “pandemic years” didn’t always feel particularly “natural”, they certainly gave me enough emotional and spiritual work to last a lifetime!

I struggled, however, to write during these years at the farm, although I often tried. Most days I was too wrung out to write at the end of a busy and social day, so I tossed farm musings and memories onto the proverbial writers’ compost heap, where they have been quietly breaking down into something new.

And here I am; full circle, but in a different ring of the spiral.

The eventual easing of Covid restrictions meant the kids were called back to their regular lives, and away from their Mull River Farm side quests. One by one, situations changed and moves were made. Indigo and Josh bought a home here in Cape Breton, and Challian moved back to Ottawa to complete his studies. Additionally, my father moved back to Ontario and my sister Maria followed.

There was grieving for me as the departures unfolded- an inevitable companion to the deep joy at having been able to unexpectedly live alongside my adult kids and their partners and friends for a short time and having my dad and both sisters here too! We did hard things together. Meaningful things. Stretchy, fun things. I had a health crisis; the kids kept the farm afloat while I healed. There were amazing experiences and memories piled on that compost heap.

I’ve lived here at the farm on my own now for a year, and the pile has settled.

In fact, it was so settled I forgot about writing for a time, while I focused on making decisions that would support a right-sized life for me here as a solo person. In time, I decided to stop doing ‘business’ and shifted to growing fresh vegetables for a food-share initiative, a little cooking program, and family. It’s been a great balance so far – my new life has more flexibility and less firm scheduling demands.

So the farm lives on !

One crop I knew I would be able to manage was garlic, and with the help of friend Kate and sister Yvonne, we just harvested the best garlic we have ever grown!

This season, I decided not to do the seedling sale (I did do it with a friend last year, but it was a lot without a team) but we have a lot of potatoes, carrots, beets, tomatoes and squashes growing.

Last week, I noticed I felt… relaxed.

That’s when I noticed the compost heap of memories steaming in the early morning mist; sending up smoke signals. Id almost forgotten about them, but they had not forgotten me.

I found myself revisiting the idea of the farm as my classroom, re-reading this blog, and reflecting on all the things I’ve learned since last sharing.

Then, sure enough the next day, while sipping my morning coffee at dawn, I caught a story rising in that same steam. Unmistakably asking to be told.

So, whether you are new here, or you have been on this lengthy sabbatical alongside me- here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to grab our shovels, and meet at the compost pile.

Together, we are going to see what’s cooking in there, and may even plant something new.