Teach the children how to eat dandelions

Once upon a time Dave and I got into a fight. The kind that left me crying because I didn't feel heard. This was part of our healing work together, I needed to be seen and heard. He had grown up not seen or heard. What he thought, or knew or shared was discounted. A random stranger on the street was given more acknowledgement for what they said.

We sometimes adopt behaviors that were hurtful to us, and it takes a shit ton of work to relearn how to communicate and live inside of compassion and empathy.

So, we had a fight over lawn chemicals.

For the majority of time we were together, Dave used pesticides to kill weeds. All the weeds. Dandelions were his most sought after enemy. Poison ivy. Those cute little flowers that come up in between stones and pavement.

If you know me, you know this was incredibly hard for me to withstand.

At that time, he couldn't hear me and he didn't believe me. One thing I've always had is an ability to see (intuit, feel, pray for, believe in) the other side, the place I'm going. I knew Dave would stop using chemicals. I knew that he would become a steward for our land, for the earth's land. I knew that lawn chemicals were just something sold to him by the bullshit that covers up truth about soil, ecosystems and health.

I also knew he was shedding so much of who he was so that he could become the person he longed to be. I already knew that part of him would one day no longer serve and his world would open.

After our fight, instead of sulking and hiding, I sent him a podcast of Zach Bush talking with Rich Roll to listen to. Zach Bush is one of my favorite speakers and educators on gut health, microbiomes, the impact of chemical farming and the health of our planet. You should know him. He is the one who led me to write 'Walking with Ferns' in a past program, the reason I seek out time with ferns and plan my next tattoo to be a fern. (More on that another time.)

Dave listened and then began his own journey to understanding the devastation these chemicals are causing to our planet, to our children who are no longer safe to run barefoot through their lawns. I am pleased to say I am on the other side and I work alongside a man who is a steward of his land, who knows that vinegar and soap will stop poison ivy and that dandelions are a superfood.

We do have grass and Dave is committed to regenerative farming and land ownership. Once you stop using chemicals and strengthen your lawn, weeds are naturally crowded out and they require much less water. Remove the drugs and a plant finds its intuition again.

I've made a prayer for as long as I can remember for children to be safe to go outside their door to pick their dandelions. Weave them into their hair, make salads and teas and watch as their parents fry up the flowers in batter.

We were talking the other night about why. Why do people grow lawns modeled after an English climate and culture? Why do people need to kill every weed? Why do people choose grass over food? Why do people spend our water resources on grass that isn't going to feed any animal?

I've been asking myself why a lot. I want to push myself to live into that question, deeply. There is a resonance of devotion that comes from asking yourself why. When we ask ourselves why we are naturally led to a deeper learning and unearthing and we can connect the dots between our beliefs, actions, desires and the faith that supports them.

As our fence is complete (you can see up above, it makes my heart dance), trellises in place and lots of eager seedlings waiting to be sunk into the earth I ask myself why. I keep challenging myself to go deeper, a little deeper each time I feel into the question. Dave and I are both in a transition time around our work in the world and growing our own food and learning to live in a greater sustainability is part of that iteration.

I'll keep saying my prayer for the children and the dandelions and bare feet touching the earth.

Let's keep living into our why. Let's pause into the moments of sun below tree lines, when the magic hour arrives blessing us. Let's see each other, really see and listen in sweet kindness, knowing there is so much we can learn when we open.

Thank you for being on the other side.

I appreciate you.