Composting Carrots on a Snowy Day and Life’s Experiences
January 2013--
A new year. A new beginning. Anticipation. Opportunities. Ushering in a new year is always filled with emotions of all kinds. It signifies an open door. What waits behind that door are many things that will surprise us--both good and bad. How will we respond? And on a grander scale, how will we mesh the past with the present to forge a new future? How will 2012, and years past, serve as fuel for the pages to be written of 2013?Peeling carrots, glittery snow, and composting--
Creating the look of extravagant bling, bright sun shining on the snow makes it glitter a silvery sheen, giving me a beautiful show outside my kitchen window. In fact, the view out every window in my house provides some version of this dazzling display. Heaps of snow cover the ground, as well as any low lying plants or shrubs. Raised garden beds and pots in my backyard look like they’ve been deliberately covered with snowy blankets so they can sleep warmly. Tiny edges of wood on the raised beds, and slivers of deep red pot edges peak out, but clearly they’ve been tucked in for a long winter’s nap.
Watching how the sun’s rays enhance the show of nature’s bling outside, I peel carrots. A menial task, but necessary for the vegetable soup I’m hoping to make this afternoon. Hot, fragrant soup is the perfect antidote to feeling a bit trapped inside because outside temperatures have dropped so low. As I scrape the carrots, I strategically take the peels that fall off and place them in a small bright kelly-green bucket that sits on my kitchen counter. The top of this unique little plastic bucket has a flower shape cut-out that hides a carbon filter, especially designed to discretely keep out unwanted odors. Methodically, I collect these delicate peels, as well as all kinds of other kitchen scraps, such as banana peels, spoiled or brown lettuce, and used coffee grounds to add to a larger pile that is silently cooking in a large black plastic compost bin in my backyard. These unwanted leftovers are a magic kind of ingredient to create fuel for next season’s garden. As if by magic, they will naturally break down and cook into a perfect food--deep, brown, rich soil-- for the next generation of flowers, vegetables, and beauty outside. Although they look like useless garbage they clearly are not. Rather, they are still teeming with life--life to give in the next season.
About Composting--
The principle of composting is the natural process of decomposition. All organic matter eventually breaks down, but it remains organic living matter. Nature was designed to recycle leftover, spoiled, or seemingly dead materials and use them as the perfect food for the next cycle of growth. The pile of dead leaves under your oak tree will break down and add living nutrients to the soil under the tree for the next season of growth. My unwanted carrot peels, spoiled apple pieces, or used coffee grounds will also break down and form a deep rich espresso-brown soil that will be teeming with living nutrients needed for any and all kinds of future seeds and plants to grow and thrive on.
You see, our Creator designed a perfect plan for our waste. The truth is that He never planned for us to put our waste into plastic bags that wouldn’t decompose for nearly a century, or to flush them down the drain, but rather that we would allow them to break down and be used again to replenish and nourish the soil which would in turn, provide our sustenance in the next season. Our scraps, leftovers, and even rotting food, were meant to feed us once again by putting the organic, living matter back into the soil. You see, the quality of the soil is paramount to growing anything and everything.
It’s the soil, stupid!
To fully grasp why composting is such a big deal you need to understand a basic premise of gardening and farming. Much like the political slogan, "it's the economy, stupid," seasoned gardeners will tell you a similar parallel is true in gardening. “It's the soil, stupid.” A basic principle you learn in gardening 101 is that you don't feed the plant, you feed the soil. Adding any and all kinds of organic matter to the soil is key to getting just about any plant to thrive. Sure, water and sunlight are necessary, but the bottom line in whether your garden will be lush and fruitful, or pitiful and barren, is the quality of the soil.
Composting is actually very simple. You collect last season's dead leaves, twigs, branches (carbon) as well as kitchen scraps, such as orange peels, coffee grounds, the lettuce you accidentally let go bad, or even grass clippings (nitrogen) into a big messy pile and you just let time do it's thing. What looks like disgusting spoiled broccoli to you, or a mess of dead leaves on your lawn, will decompose into beautiful living soil. Sure, it works best when you mix it up regularly and keep it moist, but I've discovered that you can neglect all the rules and it still works every time. Last year's dead stuff will decompose into perfectly rich and deep brown soil, teeming with life and ready for use in the next season's garden.
Composting Our Experiences--
As I think about the new year before me I want to do the same thing with my life experiences. I want to collect all the things that have happened, both to me and because of me, and use them to walk through my future with greater wisdom, peace, and perspective. All those mistakes and regrets--into the compost pile they go to break down and provide life for the next season. Anger at that person who hurt me so long ago, anger I've been hiding in a prison within my heart for far too long, is also going into the compost pile this year. No longer will that experience get stuffed in a plastic bag, never to break down, but rather it’s intentionally going into the pile where it will gradually break down into pieces of insight, compassion, and forgiveness. My life experiences with marriage, motherhood, friendship, and God. Ditto. Into my compost pile for the forces of nature, God, and time to do their thing, decomposing into beautiful rich organic material that will be the food for seeds sown for a new harvest in a new season of life. Broken relationships, as well as joyful moments, can all serve as nourishment and growth for the next step in our journey if we will let them. We were meant to use our life’s experiences to enrich the next season, not to keep us enslaved in fear, bitterness, guilt, or grief. Those emotions will come, but the healthy, natural way of things is to allow them to be recycled and reused, eventually providing a rich soil for a better more bountiful harvest in the next season of life.
Composting Our Experiences--
As I think about the new year before me I want to do the same thing with my life experiences. I want to collect all the things that have happened, both to me and because of me, and use them to walk through my future with greater wisdom, peace, and perspective. All those mistakes and regrets--into the compost pile they go to break down and provide life for the next season. Anger at that person who hurt me so long ago, anger I've been hiding in a prison within my heart for far too long, is also going into the compost pile this year. No longer will that experience get stuffed in a plastic bag, never to break down, but rather it’s intentionally going into the pile where it will gradually break down into pieces of insight, compassion, and forgiveness. My life experiences with marriage, motherhood, friendship, and God. Ditto. Into my compost pile for the forces of nature, God, and time to do their thing, decomposing into beautiful rich organic material that will be the food for seeds sown for a new harvest in a new season of life. Broken relationships, as well as joyful moments, can all serve as nourishment and growth for the next step in our journey if we will let them. We were meant to use our life’s experiences to enrich the next season, not to keep us enslaved in fear, bitterness, guilt, or grief. Those emotions will come, but the healthy, natural way of things is to allow them to be recycled and reused, eventually providing a rich soil for a better more bountiful harvest in the next season of life.
