Casey O’Neill is a farmer and owner of Happy Day Farms in Laytonville, Calif. The opinions expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of The Mendocino Voice. If you’d like to write your own column for The Mendocino Voice, send your idea to info@mendovoice.com.
So many thoughts swirling in my head. The moral bankruptcy of war, of weapons of war. Anger at the politicians who invest in weapons companies while voting for cuts to social programs. The chaos and death sown by U.S. empire builders and demagogues. It all makes me sad, makes me feel desperate and disgusted.
When I feel this way, I know it’s time to sow seeds, to plant for the future, to dream of a world without war, without evil men lining their already stuffed pockets at the expense of us all. And so, today I will plant summer squash, kale, bok choy, salad mixes, and scallions. I will cook a simple meal of food we have grown and raised, and I’ll try not to let fear and anger get to me.
With the crossing of the solstice I felt a shift, the realization that the days get shorter from here, that the workload will lessen, that the inevitable transition of the seasons continues. June is hard, the impatient rush of planting season, the rapid growth of plants that demand care as they offer harvests of abundance.
The incremental shift of the lengthening days of early June adds workload, but once we cross the threshold of solstice, we begin the slow descent towards the burgeoning production of fall and the cool, moist days of winter. Though it is far too early to think with fondness of those times, my soul knows they will arrive in due course, offering succor to my sore muscles and tired body.
And so the cycles continue. Sowing begins again after a brief hiatus as the lingering plants from the last round of seeds are planted out this week. The propagation house is nearly empty, so it’s time to fill it back up again with trays of new life, of the magic that seeds imbue, of the hope that they offer to my saddened psyche. Despite the troubles in the world, seeds still germinate, and I place my tender faith with them in the soil, that from the darkness of the earth new life may grow.
Pops has always said “my religion is love,” and I find myself reminded of this as I sift through my emotions in the light of a new dawn. Love is the driver in my life, the reason for which I act and the light that guides my steps. I resolve to be more loving in response to my despair, more caring, to check in, to offer succor as I request it, to soften in response to the hardness I feel within.
I am also reminded to seek joy, to make the effort to gather and be in community with those I love, and to find new community wherever I go. Yesterday brother Lito and I played in a dodgeball tournament cannabis event put on by the team at the Bract House in Sonora, and it was such a delightful experience. We did pretty well too, coming in second place! The physical activity, the competition, the camaraderie that it inspired reminded me how much I love sports, how much I love play.
I create the demands of the farm with my own planning processes, so I have no one else to blame for the workload. Manufactured urgency is one of the great tribulations of my life, and there is a clear lesson for me that I need time for joy, for play. This spring has been an epic push as we scaled up the vegetable business and added new infrastructure, and I feel myself coming out of a steep climb and onto a new plateau for my life.
This new space holds opportunity and choices, a new level of capability, capacity, and a need to evaluate my goals and expectations. Solstice provides the perfect downbeat for reflection, for stepping back from the frenetic rush of planting season to consider the next steps in a measured way. I’m establishing new routines as our farmscape shifts, and it’s important to me to be conscious and make healthy decisions about workload and practice.
I’m deeply grateful for all the help we receive from friends and neighbors who come to work with us on the farm, and I’m also conscious that my planning processes directly result in either comfortable, enjoyable work or stressful excess that isn’t fun for anyone. Finding a balance between productivity and pleasure becomes more important to me as I focus on the love I receive and the ways I give love.
Slowing down enough to connect becomes a driving force when I focus on the increasing anomie of a world that feels angrier and more divided. Anchoring myself in the soil, I sow seeds with hope, reaching for love and offering it in return. As always, much love and great success to you on your journey!
Casey O’Neill owns and runs HappyDay Farms, a small vegetable and cannabis farm north of Laytonville. He is a long time cannabis policy advocate, and was born and raised in the Bell Springs area. The preceding has been an editorial column. The Mendocino Voice has not necessarily fact-checked or copyedited this work, and it should be interpreted as the words of the author, not necessarily reflecting the opinions of The Mendocino Voice.