Lessons from the land: The fallow time
Returning to Julia Cameron and a regenerative way of living
No time right now for a read? Scroll down for upcoming gatherings ❤️
“Growth is an erratic forward movement: two steps forward, one step back... You will lie dormant sometimes. Do not be discouraged.” ― Julia Cameron
You are a creator, an artist, an undeniable embodiment of life force.
If you don’t see yourself that way, you may not yet have stumbled upon Julia Cameron’s seminal work, The Artist’s Way.
I often find myself returning to Cameron’s practices in the spring. New growth is pushing up through the cold earth, often mirroring a resurgence in my own creative flow.
I also commonly find my way back out of desperation.
Regardless of politics, patriarchal capitalism conditions us to produce non-stop, based on a man’s 24-hour clock and a quarterly earnings report. It takes some unlearning to instead create in alignment with our individual bodies and environments.
I’m no scientist, but I can plainly recognize that the daily and seasonal shifts in light and temperature give my body rather direct cues, that my 28-day hormonal cycle plays an enormous role in every aspect of my being, and that continuous effort reliably results in burn-out.
As it often goes, both our inner nature and outer nature hold space for fallow periods. In fact, quite a lot of space.
The term fallow is most familiar as applied to agriculture, referring to a regenerative practice of tilling the soil without seeding it for a season to allow the land to rest, regain nutrients, and improve moisture retention.
Ask me how I feel about honoring a fallow season and you’ll get one of two very different responses.
When I am grounded (or shortly after an episode of burnout) it feels genuinely insane to push through fatigue, crank out eight hours every day, and sacrifice everything at least a little on the altar of “work.”
Come late winter, when I’m crunching my budget and dredging the bottom of my soul to follow-through on too many ill-timed projects, I wax cynical about the hard realities of meaningful work…and then totally crash into illness.
Which brings us back to this repeat springtime rediscovery of another way.
This is when I can remember once again that I wasn’t “stuck.” My creative spirit requires (and delights in!) fallow spaciousness and won’t be rushed, no matter how stubbornly I try. Seeds don’t grow in depleted dirt.
As Cameron perhaps also learned the hard way, “We must learn to let the flow manifest itself where it will — not where we will it.”
P.S. While I still have a hard time embracing dormant periods in my creative flow as per The Artist’s Way, this is counterbalanced with the treat of reprioritizing the “artist date.” My latest Field Note shares reflections from a wander into the Brandywine Valley in Delaware and a quaint winery near Walt Whitman’s home in New Jersey.
Upcoming Gatherings:
Virtual Training: When the World is Burning: Restoring Calm Through Meaning
Hosted by the Trauma Informed Care Network, this experiential dialogue will support you in triaging overwhelm and restoring capacity for difficult uncertainties.
Thu, April 23rd 6:30-8:00 pm MDT | Online $10
1 CEU for Utah licensed mental health professionals
Women’s Sangha: Full Flower Moon Ritual
We will weave together poetry and music while savoring butterfly pea flower tea and sowing wildflower seeds alongside our intentions.
Fri, May 1st 6:30-8:00 pm South Jordan, UT
Save the Dates! 6th Annual Wild Women Retreat
Join me for a pilgrimage into your own soul’s vision for your life. Gathering in Escalante for the first time, I am excited to take this small group on a journey to the sacred alcove where I closed out my own vision quest in June one year ago.
Friday, June 12th - Sunday, June 14th in Escalante, Utah
Registration opens next week!
Gratitude for Contributing Readers
Thank you to those supporting this labor of love! All revenue is donated to Madrona, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit community at the confluence of art, soul and nature.
I will be sharing small treasures with you - personal stories, poems, rituals, and other delights to say thank you, like this one published earlier today:
