THE COVER CROP OF YOUR SOUL

As I was working in the garden earlier this week, I had a thought that stood out. The little plot of land that I steward was wild and overgrown; the one radish that I did not harvest had gone to flower and grown so tall that it was reaching above my belly button and, for the most part, the rest of the area had been populated by nasturtium, which was serving as a cover crop during the time I left the garden unattended. In all its wildness, there was a certain beauty in its disarray, and the bees were buzzing around, kissing one bloom after another. But, as it happens with any transitional moment, it is imperative to clear the space of the old in order to allow for the new to come in.

Nasturtium likes to climb, and it was doing a wonderful job at that on the tomato cage which, otherwise, had desiccated remnants of last year’s plants, and wild grass swayed gently peppered throughout the space. As I began pulling weeds and cleaning up, many little bugs appeared; ladybugs, some ants, some pillbugs, all those inconspicuous critters that are easily missed and often regarded with suspicion, where actually a positive sign of how alive and fertile the soil had kept.

In regenerative design, cover crops play a very important role in keeping the soil protected from full sun exposure which can deplete it from all its nutrients. At the same time, the cover crop provides shelter and food for all the other living things that coexist in the garden. It is thanks to cover cropping that we can ensure the soil will continue to be full of life and ready for a new growing cycle. 

So I thought, what is the cover crop of my soul? During those transitional times when I go from gestation to creation of an idea, for instance, or when I pass from mourning to cheerfulness, after releasing something I was attached to, thinking that it was keeping me safe but in reality, was just keeping stagnant, what is it that keeps me centered? How do I remain certain that, just as it is with all life, I too go through cycles; after the creative process, there is the inevitable ending to that chapter: closing a show, arriving after a journey, sending a heartfelt letter that took two days to write, releasing a film, doing a presentation that took weeks to prepare… all things end, and every ending is a new beginning. 

After winter, spring always comes, and after that, we have summer which leads us to autumn. The quiet, hibernating period is just as important as the fruiting season; one cannot exist without the other.

For my cycles, I’ve noticed that one of the most powerful, yet very internal practices I do during transitional moments is to ENVISION. I spend quite a lot of time going inward and dreaming about the next journey I want to embark on, the idea I want to write about, the picture I want to paint in the world so that I can step right in it. And, it works! Cover-cropping my soul by envisioning what I want to materialize keeps my creative soil fertile, hopeful, and hospitable for other expressions to take shape. 

Everything in life moves in cycles. Do you you have a way in which you protect your creativity during the winter of your process? What is your cover crop of your soul?