Few things ring truer to me recently than the Creole quote “One rain does not make a crop.” It reminds me, particularly lately, that many of the changes we wish to see don’t happen instantly, but through time and good work. Often, we get so busy trying to make everything work all at once and see results, we forget to stop and reflect. What would it look like if we combined patience and diligence to grow the important things in our lives with the ability to see what’s before us and behind us to cultivate a spirit of fulfillment in ourselves?
For me, there’s been a lot of shifting and changing in nearly every one of my communities, which is wonderful in most aspects, but it’s taken a lot of effort for everyone to adjust to new circumstances. And not only adjust; we must water things where we want them to grow, all while reflecting on where we’ve been searching for peace in our present situations. I’ve seen a lot of encouraging watering and peace for others in my circles, including the Grit readers who reach out to share what’s happening in their lives.
This issue of Grit is special to me, in that it represents so much passion from so many people, from the writers to the editors and beyond, even amid change. For this issue to come together, folks have sown seeds of creativity and knowledge and nurtured them well – not all at once, but little by little, over time, until these small seeds of ideas sprouted into a harvest. Matt Stephens shares his dedicated passion for agritourism; Ryan Paruch reminds us to touch the wild by rewilding your yard; Leah Smith explains the joy in creating beautiful, useful bee pastures; Hannah McClure shares a Navajo taco recipe that’s served in my home and gatherings quite often; and these so much more from many wonderful people whose words of wisdom advise patience, diligence, and reflection. We’re honored to introduce their passion, gratitude, vision, and “rain” to you.
May your crops receive rain, and may you have the strength to harvest them,
Karmin
