Tending the soil

What's been nurturing me lately

Hi friends,

It’s almost spring here in the Southern Hemisphere. My garden has sprung up in corridors of jasmine, geranium and freesias and, this weekend, Zach and I planted our summer vegetables. The act filled me with lightness and hope. My days have been characterised by this simplicity, and have featured very little writing or striving. I was reminded of a quote by Ocean Vuong,

“In our market-orientated zeitgeist, we are taught to focus heavily on production. Look around you: how many are trying to force flowers to grow out of thin air? And at what result? And more importantly, at what cost?"

Any farmer will tell you, the most time-consuming work is cultivating the soil. The harvest in the last part. And yet, we are taught to rush this last part. To believe that something beautiful should grow merely because we command it to. And like all tricks, it is an illusion. There is no writer’s block, only a lack of soil.”

I used to believe in writing every day, but I increasingly appreciate the value of the spaces between an idea and the writing of it. In life, I am learning to focus less on the outcome and living in the uncertainty of the present moment. In vegetable gardening, Zach and I plant generously and don’t hold on too tightly to an idea of what it will look like. The result is that every seedling, fruit and vegetable is a wonderful surprise.

I recently listened to a gorgeous episode of the On Being Podcast, where Krista Tippet speaks to the late Joanna Macy about her translation of Rainer Maria Rilke. The conversation mentions a favourite Rilke quote that sums up how I feel:

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

Here are a few articles have been nurturing me as I ‘prepare the soil’ for whatever it is I write next.

Olga Tokarczuk’s Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech. “Only literature is capable of letting us go deep into the life of another being, understand their reasons, share their emotions and experience their fate.”

This interview with science fiction author Adrian Tchaikovsky. “Science, if it is being conducted honestly, will come into conflict with authoritarianism.”

Elizabeth Gilbert’s substack, featuring Jesse Krimes (on why we write.) “No matter what happens to the world, as long as there is anything here left whatsoever, and any human spirit to witness it, people will keep making things out of nothing. You will be (already are, always will be) one of those people. This is holy. Let’s keep going.”

Some recent reads (with honest reviews):

Broken Country, Clare Leslie Hall - Slow burning and brooding at first, but a really satisfying and gripping read. Perfect for a holiday or rainy weekend.

My Friends, Fredrick Backman - The reader in me enjoyed this emotional testament to the power of friendship, found family and art. The writer in me found the narrative a bit ‘on the nose’ and I felt like my emotions were being manipulated. All in all, I was a willing participant and enjoyed the story and how it all resolved.

Project Hail Mary, Andy Weir (audiobook) - I had high hopes for this one, but after one too many catheter descriptions (I’m squeamish) I opted out. If anyone thinks I should continue, please let me know.

Atmosphere, Taylor Jenkins Reid. There were moments that I really enjoyed this story, but I didn’t find the protagonist’s love story and chemistry convincing (I was hoping for chemistry along the lines of the Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo). It also turns out I only have one space-themed story in me per year. For a more sublime story about space, I would recommend Orbital by Samantha Harvey.

Howl’s Moving Castle, Dianna Wynn Jones. Simply magical and accessible to all ages. a classic that feels fresh and engaging.

Thank you again to everyone who took the time to reply to my previous essay on diabetes. I only discovered some of the replies the other day (!) but know that it all meant so much. It is no small thing to show up in this world in all one’s vulnerability and to be received with understanding and compassion.

Until next time x

Amy