Raised Roots

I just broke an bottle of olive oil from November 2019. This was one of the most special times of my life, joined by confluence of rock solid humans listed on the bottle. If your name is listed there you showed up for me, for us, for each other, to pick olives, exactly as humans have been doing for thousands of years. The pure taste of love is the best way I can describe it.

Note that below that list it says it’s best enjoyed before March 2020. For a lot of us, many things were best enjoyed before March 2020.

Alas, a new harvest awaits. How will you reap?

I am the anchor
I am the sail
I am the wind

Tell this to yourself out loud. Repeat as needed.

Are you ready to shift your focus? You’ve gotten so good at reading between the lines that you forgot about the lines themselves. You’re stepping into a new world from yesterday’s. Are your old tools working at all? Changes so intense you forgot all about your previous strifes. That is, until the dust settles like tar on your skin as you spend the days gathering feathers. Me? I’ve learned to feed on the nectars around me.

It’s ladybug season here in the Bay Area. They have a pretty cool migration pattern that I know very little about, but I do know I’m lucky they’ve deemed my farm worthy of calling home. Welcome ladies.