We Are Farmers Of Our Fields
We are all farmers of our own fields.
We till the soil, break apart endless clumps of dirt and remove stones, like samskaras, that have been there for lifetimes or longer.
We pull up weeds that have grown from neglect.
And then we plant our seeds with good intentions, words and actions. Just the right depth. Just the right space between the one before and after.
We feed our fields with the minerals we eat and hydrate it with the liquids we drink.
We wait for a spell to see if the sun shines the right amount. If the birds and rabbits stay away.
Miraculously the fruit arrives. Perhaps small at first.
We develop patience; make sure we don’t pick our bounty too quickly…before it is perfectly ripe.
Dripping with sweetness we know the day to harvest and if the fruit is overflowing we share our gifts with others.
We form relationships. Bonds.
You taste my fruit and I’ll taste yours.
Pretty soon we have a sangha, a circle, a community of farmers who help each other when there is drought or affliction.
Soon our neighborhood has a surplus and we look outside and see that there are swaths of farmland that have not been hoed.
The farmers who work this land have not been as lucky as we have. They didn’t know what food to eat, what liquids to drink. They didn’t get the right amount of sun. Creatures came in the night and stole their seeds.
So we give them our surplus, but that’s not enough.
What’s enough is teaching them how to farm for themselves. How to break apart their own endless clumps of dark rich earth and remove the obstructions that lay in their paths.
That’s the most important work because once we’ve taught someone else how to farm they can teach others and create healthy communities of their own so that we become a nation of farmers plowing our lands, sowing our fruits and sharing our wealth.
-- Brette Popper