The Planter of Seeds

There is an uplifting quote by Morgan Harper Nichols, "I will continue to sow seeds even in uncertainty," 

 Last week  I finally planted the seeds I had received from the seed exchange at the local library. Along with our usual vegetable garden, we are hoping to start a flower bed with the seeds we acquired.  A few of the seeds we planted, we have never done so before so we have been waiting in anticipation to see the first signs of them.  This week our sunflower seeds showed their first sprouts which was no surprise as they are always the hardiest of seeds and seem to be prolific when they begin. They remind me of the resilience and growth of children.  The marigolds were next to show above the soil with much spindlier shoots. Marigolds are much more delicate in the beginning and you have to be careful not to overwater. They need more time to absorb and take root like many changes we all undertake. The wildflowers have required a bit more care with a plastic bag to seal in the moisture and a much sunnier spot to begin.  They have yet to show any sign of life. These seeds require more patience and perhaps faith. Milkweed and Calendula are showing a hint of something but that may just be a bit optimistic at this point. If the milkweed gets a start it can spread quickly and be monumental which is what most of us hope with the seeds we plant.  Seeing hints of new life this week and still waiting for others brought me back to Morgan's quote and the idea of uncertainty always being a constant. It is one of the only things in life we can be truly certain of.  We are not able to know for sure if any of the seeds we plant will bring life, hope, joy, understanding, friendship, change, love, forgiveness, or reconciliation. Regardless of this reality, it feels like such a beautiful way to imagine our lived experience as "the planters of seeds". 

I imagine how difficult it often is to begin to plant both physical and metaphorical seeds.  The seeds I had were with me for quite some time and it was just thinking of the time and effort it would take to get everything I would need to plant just a few seeds and just to begin. Sometimes we just don't recognize the value in this.  We also have to think about the best way to do so, the condition of the soil, the right pot, how deep in the soil to embed, and how many seeds. Of course, we also have to nurture the seeds when they are in the soil, and figure out how much water, sun, and the best location for their needs. Waiting for results and outcomes while not being able to control them.  We also wonder how many will take root, rot, what will they look like, and how many will make it to the next phase. There is a bit of resignation in trusting the process, knowing that you may not see results when you like or ever. There are many things we sow seeds for that don't come up for another year or two. Yet still, we see the process of sowing seeds as hope-filled. Maybe because of the promise it brings that new life is always available and that we can play a part in it as the planter. 

In our local school district, we have begun to play the  Wolastoq song which is an honors song sung by our First Nations Educator, Sarah Francis. In the video, Sarah is shown singing on Ekpahak island where she feels the presence of her ancestors.  She builds a fire to warm her drum to help produce its beautiful sound and does a ceremonial smudge.  On Wednesdays each week it replaces the playing of the National Anthem, a small seed but a seed nonetheless.  I anticipate the playing of this song and watching the beauty of the Wolastoq river with Sarah playing her soulful drum but not more than the sweet kindergarteners in my class.  I have witnessed the budding and flourishing of this seed each week and I only wish everyone had the privilege to.  They stand as they do to show respect and watch intently. The first few times with wide eyes and uncertainty and very quickly this changed to humming and handholding for a few while I caught the eye of the educational assistant in the class for affirmation of what we were witnessing.   This past Wednesday, there was handholding, swaying, and singing both the Wolastoqey words, although incorrectly, and belting out the English translated lyric, " Wolastoq is flowing, flowing and growing, down to the sea.  Mother carry me. A child I will always be".  I can't describe the feeling of warmth and bittersweet joy in the room while witnessing young children singing this song and the seeds begin to take root.

The act of planting or sowing seeds in uncertainty seems so prevalent now as seeds of peace are sown in the face of war.  This month as well as we step up our efforts to spotlight Mother Earth and her needs for our nurturance and nourishing seeds of care and concern, it is a good reminder that sowing seeds is often challenging. There are difficult conversations that need to be had to plant a seed.  There are many circumstances and barriers that can wreak havoc with our efforts but when we realize the importance of continuing to plant even when you find yourself doing so in places that others don't want to, we can take comfort in knowing that as a  "planter of seeds" you are preparing the soil, the foundation and possibly growing the fruit for the future to harvest and maybe in this we are living a meaningful, joyful,   and loving life, one seed at a time.