Compost Happens
"I wonder if compost believes in life after death?" - Being Human, Climbing Poetree
Led a session for a garden-themed women’s retreat earlier this month and so I dug up this essay. It was written 8 years ago when I was going through a rough patch with anxiety-fueled depression that had morphed into physiological symptoms including allergic reactions to sun and gluten. Ultimately, that difficult phase of life is what led me to coaching as I was doing everything under the sun (while wearing long sleeves, a brimmed hat and spf 65) to try to solve all the dumpiness I was experiencing. Here’s the essay and then some reflections on it after time has passed - which turns out to be a pretty helpful exercise for self-reflection.
November 2016
This past week at church, the gospel story was one starring the Sadducees, who tried to get Jesus to mess up by asking him a crazy hypothetical question about life after death, a mystery in which they didn't believe (which is why they were sad, you see?)
*pause for bad pun induced groans*
The preacher at the church where I attended asked the congregation, "Do you believe in life after death and if so, why?" His answer was that he believes in God, and therefore, he can embrace the mystery of what he doesn't understand.
My own answer to this question started brewing just a couple days ago when I took the garbage out. Two years ago, my family started composting all of our organic garbage: banana peels, onion skins, coffee grounds, egg shells, squash innards, artichoke leaves (just kidding, we aren’t cool enough to actually eat artichokes).
We got a backyard composter from the local public works department and started separating out our kitchen scraps and mixing it with yard waste. The pile was stinky at first, but then soon enough, violà - it was buggy and stinky.
We stuck with it though, first learning the importance of the ratio of “browns” (leaves and paper) and “greens” (food refuse, things with water content). We figured out how to make a habit of turning the pile regularly and it slowly improved but still wasn’t quite as pleasant as we hoped. Enter: red wigglers purchased at a local urban farm and within a week or two… pure magic.
Well, magic with some assistance from education, the help of friendly worms, and our own attentiveness and effort. What was once alive as our dinner salad and was then rotten and dead, buggy and stinky, became full of life again in the form of dark, rich, sweet-smelling, cottony material that will make soil rich and fertile for the plants that I get really excited to plant in May and then lose steam on watering by late July.
Watching this process unfold is a regular practice of sitting in awe. This real, obvious transformation just keeps happening so long as we tend to it and keep it balanced, stay patient and invite some friends (the worms) to help us along the way.
Life after death happens: good out of bad, beauty out of pain.
As I turn the pile of compost, I am reminded of all of my own inner garbage to which I need to tend. Why is it so hard to face the "little deaths" that I encounter - the broken relationships, the ways I’ve screwed up, the blows to the ego? If I don’t attend to it, what happens? Toxicity in some form, no doubt.
What if, with some attention and support, this garbage can bring me new life, transformed into the foundation needed to nourish and grow something new? Can attending to the garbage of my inner life - or taking out the garbage in my difficult relationships - bring about some real transformation and growth?
*wavy lines time warp transition frame*
Looking back on this essay many years later, I’m a bit surprised at the hopefulness of my tone. I definitely remember the person writing this was talking herself into feeling a sense of hopefulness - things were pretty grim on the inside AND the outside - it was a contentious election year and not a particularly good one for the people I know and love.
I was sifting through it all - doing the process I needed to do to feel the transformation I was looking for. I remember really wanting a magic wand back then. And all along, the magic was in the showing up - in the being willing to look at the yuck, believing there was some kind of treasure in there to keep inching toward. Knowing this experience for myself is probably why I find myself saying to my clients who are in low, trashy places that because they are showing up to coaching sessions, things are already changing.
Eight years later, I’m in a better spot. The state of the world, however, has gotten pretty grim. I’ve been needing to lean into the faith of the compost pile again. Worms don’t work alone and neither should we. So find those people in your world who still believe in humanity and let’s all get busy on the slow, quiet work of inner transformation so as to nourish those places doing good in the world.
Are you sifting through some crap?
Here’s some things I’m doing that might be supportive to you:
Putting finishing touches on a women’s coaching circle to start late April in the effort to make coaching more affordable and community-powered. Message or email me if you’d like to be on the wait list for one of the 8 spots. Will be good support for changes you want to see happen in your life this spring.
Tuesday morning lovingkindness meditation practice in a small community of support. Sign up here. Here’s what one participant says: “Community with other like minded women and simple meditation practices to help me feel more grounded and stable in these shittttty times.” (She didn’t even know I was gonna write about compost this month. Let’s transform the shit and create fuel for new life together!)
Take 20% my Enneagram coaching package in month of April using code SPRING20. This gets you the IEQ9 individual report (yours to keep) and one 90 min integration session with me to understand your Enneagram core type and to jump start your journey of self-growth using the Enneagram as a guide. Discount ends April 10! If you’ve wanted to know what the Enneagram is all about, now’s your chance!
For Inspiration and Fun:
Researching compost in my google drive led me to this amazing poem from Climbing Poetree. No matter what, if the only thing you can do today is to listen to and appreciate a vision of a world where we know our profound goodness alongside the profound goodness of every other created being - and learn to live in awe of each other.
Watch the first 5 minutes of this podcast and I swear, your serotonin levels will skyrocket. “Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves for they will never cease to be amused.” (Anonymous - from a print my mom had hanging in her office that I now hang in mine).
Anyone else watching The Americas on NBC Sunday nights? This clip about flamingos doing a dance-off had my whole family in stitches!