Rooted

or the past several years, my spouse and I have planted garlic cloves in the fall, and harvested some pretty amazing garlic bulbs (if I do say so myself) in the summer. Though my family of origin grew many things, we never grew garlic, so the process has been full of wonder and intrigue since we started growing it here.

In the fall, before it freezes, we till up some space in our garden, then place garlic cloves, root side down, into the soil. While we bought the first year’s garlic from an heirloom seed company, we have saved some of our best cloves every year since so that we can plant them again the next fall. Then we take a bunch of the leaves that fall in our yard that I have mulched up and bagged in the lawn mower, and dump them over top of the planted garlic to protect them from harsh winter weather. Then, we wait.

What we don’t see–that is pretty awesome to think about–is that right away the garlic gets to work growing. Not above ground, but below it. The garlic roots must get established in the soil before the ground freezes entirely, otherwise, despite our best, above-ground efforts, come spring the garlic will be D.O.A.–Dead On Arrival.

Just the other day, we were working in the backyard, and I looked over and saw beautiful, green shoots of garlic poking up from the thick layer of mulched leaves spread on top of it. The green was stark against the still very brown and dark landscape, so it caught my attention immediately. It was a beautiful sight and, as it is so often with nature and me, a beautiful reminder.

Perhaps most poignantly, it was a reminder of the importance of establishing roots so that, when the harsh winds, rains, snows, and freezes of life happen–and they will–we are grounded enough to sustain them. For this grounding–this rootedness–to be effective in sustaining us, it must happen BEFORE the freeze. BEFORE the grief settles in. BEFORE the winds of change blow so hard that it feels like it’s blowing straight through us. BEFORE the next bad news story, and BEFORE the heartbreak, the diagnosis, the legislation. BEFORE whatever threatens to freeze us in our tracks happens, our roots must be well-established.

Which means that whatever we’re doing today to get rooted in our hearts, minds, and spirits, is what will determine how we withstand tomorrow’s weather. So, my dear readers, I wonder, what is it that you are doing to get rooted today? 

Personally, I’m concentrating on getting enough sleep to feel rested. I’m studying scripture and I’m reading and I’m showing up to groups to discuss with others what I’m studying and reading. I’m getting regular exercise, and am trying to be more conscious about what I’m putting into my body to fuel it. I’m learning to hand off what I can, to put down what no longer serves me, and to carry the rest, although, admittedly, this remains an ultimate challenge to me. I’m working on balance at home and balance at work, and balancing my need to know what’s happening in the world with what my heart can handle listening to on any given day. I’m checking in with my spouse and my dogs, my family and my friends. And I’m spending time in nature–whether in my backyard, or in Mother Nature’s backyard. 

And I’m letting it all be prayer. I’m letting it all ground me in the truth of who I am and who I am not. I’m letting it all still my soul and stir me toward action all together and all at once. 
Our faith offers us such beautiful practices to help us get and stay rooted:  Prayer, song, community, connection, rituals, sacraments, and silence. In our community of faith, we have opportunities to serve and learn and discuss and grow. It’s all just built in here for us–if we so choose. But we have to choose it, and choose it over and over and over again.

Rooting is not a one and done exercise. For garlic, it happens every day, under the surface of the earth, little by little, pushing down deep before the deep freezes and growth is paused. For us, it happens much the same way. Day by day, doing the inner work that often no one sees, but, little by little, pushes our roots ever deeper into a more constant communion with one another, our truest selves, and the One in whom we live, and move, and have our being.  

Being able to withstand the harshness of life’s storms begins with being firmly rooted. What is it that you are doing to get rooted today?

On the journey with you,
Pr. Melissa

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