Reflecting on 2023, and an invitation to look backwards and inwards.
Though my local climate is temperate, I can still see and feel the seasons shifting all around me here at the ranch. We’ve entered a phase of the year when I tend to notice myself craving a reprieve from our culture’s usual insistence on go, go, go. You, too?
The nature-based philosophy of Taoism, my spiritual path of choice, encourages us to align ourselves with nature’s cycles. Winter is dark, cold, damp, and inactive. Taoist wisdom teaches us not to resist this, but to slow down accordingly, and to replenish our energy by turning inward, finding quiet stillness, and reflecting on the prior season’s growth.
This is a season dominated by Yin energy. It’s such an underrecognized and unappreciated energy in our Yang-forward world, which prefers fast, sizzling action and perpetual manifestation. But like preparing the soil before you plant, nourishment and rest are essential in order to store the energy necessary for healthy sprouting of new life come springtime.
As I begin to go more inward, I thought I’d take this moment to reflect out loud, right here, on seasons past. Here’s a review of my summer and fall, in multiple life arenas, looking as much at the changes in the land all around me as at those in my internal landscape...
(1) THE RANCH IN REVIEW
This year, we removed about 5,000 avocado trees that were 42+ years old and low-producing, and in their place, we planted 11,500 trees of a new variety. They’re called Gem avocados and have numerous advantages, including resistance to heat and wind, and a shape that allows them to be planted closer together. While these are great selling points, a question still lingers for me: just because you can, does that mean you should? Time will tell, so we’re waiting to see how the trees do as they settle in.
There are more questions, too: if we can now place twice as many trees in the same amount of space, how might we repurpose some plots once the trees age out? Should we rewild those areas? Create grazing space? We’re looking into possibilities for the coming year, and in the meantime, you know me – I’m always listening to the land for insights.
Of course, we’ve also turned to some brilliant experts for help. You may remember Jose Caballero, the renegade environmental science teacher and sustainability pro I interviewed for the Regenerative Spaces podcast. We brought him out to the ranch a few months ago to take a look at our lower gardens, where we’re growing food for our family and to share with the seven workers’ families who will be calling Ellwood Canyon Ranch home next year. He offered some ideas for a more efficient redesign, starting by bulldozing the whole thing, fencing the perimeter, and integrating a chicken run and organized planting. Just like with our avocados, this strategy would start with a loss, in terms of carbon and in terms of the history and legacy of the garden, like the hops we’ve had growing on their trellis for decades, and a pineapple guava hedge we would lose. The truth is, there is no one right answer.
I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and its role in sustainable ecosystems, and not just in terms of horticulture. This year we lost a beloved member of our ranch community, which was beyond painful. The tragic event also cascaded into the loss of our foreman. I’m not going to suggest that these tragedies were worth the pain (as the plant-related ones may be), but I am noticing how they have brought us all closer together. We’re a tighter, more committed team, rising from the ashes of our shared loss. I expect the soil all around us to model the same.
A few more of this year’s experiments on the ranch:
We’ve tried a variety of approaches to soil nutrient analysis, including Apical leaf testing and Haney soil testing. Unlike conventional testing methods that are less informative of biological processes available, these are geared towards measuring the true capacity of a symbiotic ecosystem by modeling the way nature tends to work, with the goal being a reduction in chemicals added to the mix.
We planted 1,200 pomegranate trees — a new thing for us — and I'm excited to see how they do on the land.
This summer, we started producing compost tea from our worm compost, and now the House Garden and Pit Fruit and Citrus Orchards have benefitted from that tea. Now we’re trying to refine the process of brewing and applying it in the Lower Garden.
We’ve started planting cover crops anytime a garden box or section of the orchard is done bearing fruit, before we turn it over. We’re also planting more pollinators all around our home.
We submitted our first application for a Pollinator Grant through CDFA, requesting funds for cover crops, hedgerows, and windbreak trees to sink carbon, increase habitat and diversity, and improve the soil. The CEC has been helpful in guiding us through this process, and we hope to begin planting after the first of the year.
Are you curious to learn more about any of these bullet points? Let me know, and I’ll continue the conversation in a future post.
(2) THE PODCAST IN REVIEW
I recently wrapped the first eight-episode season of my new podcast, Regenerative Spaces. I have so enjoyed this new creative project and the opportunity to bring my burning questions to many brilliant guests, so you can learn from them right alongside me. It’s super fun, which is a core value for me.
If there’s one uniting nugget I can offer now, looking back at the season, it’s that we’re all existing in one big web of ecosystems. The more I learn about different disciplines – beekeeping, herbal medicine, education, Taoist spirituality, land practices, and beyond – the more I see them all connecting. There is a blueprint at work, which gives me hope.
I’ve also been able to reinforce the notion that each of us is born with our own unique genius, something I've long suspected, and that individual brilliance just needs to be nourished and nurtured. What’s yours? If you’re not sure, take a look at what fascinates and obsesses you, even going as far back as early childhood. No judgment is allowed here, as it kills the creative process quicker than anything.
Did you have a chance to listen to the podcast yet? If so, which episodes impacted you most, and what kinds of conversations would you like to hear next season, launching in February? Hit “reply” to share.
(3) AN INTERNAL REVIEW
I always say, “climate change is an inside job,” and I’d say that goes for regeneration, too. I can’t wrap up this newsletter without taking a close look at my own psychology in the context of this continued work.
There’s been a lot going on, as I just described, but my passion for it has fueled a joie de vivre. So has my curiosity. In general, I’ve noticed an increased vitality and feeling of gratitude for being alive at this moment. I’m sensing that active engagement in regenerative land practice is fundamentally regenerative to the soul, too. Shifting toward giving more than I take, in big ways and small, actually is revitalizing.
Another interesting thing: as I’ve made more space at the center of my life for my passion and purpose, I’ve been pushed to set a lot of boundaries. I’m realizing that if I want to contribute to a greater good and take responsibility where I can, then I have to take a very hard inventory of my attention, finances, time, relationships – anything that requires an energetic output. I’m asking myself important questions: What do I really want? Why? What are the steps to get there, and what needs to be pared down and changed to secure that abundance?
Writing this, I think of the trees in the orchard. When we over-water them or try to care for them with too much finicky manipulation, they suffer. Not overgiving or over-helping actually allows the roots to grow stronger. It’s probably the same with people and our day-to-day routines. Can we just let certain things go and trust nature and trust life, including its losses? It’s not always easy to change an old pattern, but I consider this my discipline.
That’s my hopeful offering for you and for all of us as we head towards the end of the year. Here’s to slowness, quiet, and rest, and the trust that all requires, and may we truly feel our connection to all living things.