Monday, February 1, 2010

Mulch: almost as inspiring as compost

I had a revelation about mulch, but it didn't come from the garden. It came from a prayer meeting I was in with the school staff. I've been subconsciously trying to discover an all inclusive garden metaphor to discipleship in the context of the school that's happening. (It's reminding me of when I spent 3 weeks trying to piece together Einsteins theories of Special and General Relativity).

As an existentialist, I need to be able to see the whole picture of something before I'm comfortable and willing to share it. Not just how it works, but the history of it from B.C. to today, how it has evolved, and then analyze it based on what I found.

So with the garden analogy, I was stoked when this piece of the picture showed up. I had by this time already figured out that the students are the soil, God is the gardener who plants righteousness, justice, praise, and many other fun things. (Isa 61:11). But I wasn't sure who the disciplers/staff were (gardenwise that is).

Then it hit me that we are the mulch. We aren't the gardeners, we're not the seeds, we're not the water, we're not the soil. We're the mulch. We cover the soil, hold water longer, keep weeds out, and over time give some nutrients to the soil as well. In plain terms, we set a safe atmosphere for soil.

The practical issues I've run into with mulch thus far have been not having enough and spreading it too thin.

The first problem I'm finding is just reality. You can only cover a certain amount of ground with mulch. That forces me to focus on a smaller area that is within my abilities, rather than the huge garden I dream of.

The second is based around the first, but is the true problem that I've had in my greed for a bigger garden. The first time I laid mulch I tried to cover this large area and instead of doing a full 4 to 6 inch deep layer, I did a 1-3 inch deep layer so I could cover the whole area. All this did was give me problems, because the weeds were still getting enough sunlight to grow so they still sprouted up right in the middle of the garden and caused me more work than if I had just done a smaller better covered section. It's so easy to do this as a staff because you want to see more happening and so you spread it a bit thin, which causes weaknesses that will be exposed.

But the real cool part of this revelation isn't the problems that arise when it isn't working; it's the  roles and benefits of mulch when it's working properly.

  1. It sets an environment for the soil(students) where they can be shaded from the direct sunlight/direct cold. 
  2. It hold onto water like a sponge for the soil rather than letting it just run right past with only a small amount being used. Which means that to be good mulch, you hold onto the water that's coming at you and slowly release it to the soil. (that's when you repeat yourself a lot, because it flew right past them the first time it hit them. Thanks Mom and Dad for being great mulch.) 
  3. Then the last one is cool, because it involves us dying a bit and allowing God to use that to feed the plants he's trying to grow in the soil. I like that it is just a little bit, because in reality we aren't God for others, and although we do feed each other a bit, the real job we have as a family is to provide safety, hold onto water (rememberance of what God's said and done), and provide good conditions for growth.
A permaculturist told me that the key to a great garden in good compost and mulch. I'm totally in love with the compost side of things on a personal level, but now I'm seeing that the mulch is all about others soil. The Garden analogy still isn't complete in my head, which is good, because it keeps me leaning forward wanting more. 

Placement matters

A few weeks ago I was dreaming of growing and harvesting my own Sassafras Tree for making root beer. I randomly asked a friend of mine if she knew where I could get one, and she said that she actually had a bunch because she had just finished growing them from seeds. This blew me away, but that same night I found out that the Sassafras roots that used to be used for root beer are actually really bad for your liver and no longer used in root beer. No thank you.

Despite that, I decided I still wanted the tree because I really want to learn how to grow trees. For reasons based around the more long-term life of trees, which fascinates me and just learning what they need, the amount, and how often. Maybe one day I'll become an arboriculturalist, which would be fun to say, but boring as a full-time job I'd imagine.

So on to the point of this entry. I just placed my new 2 foot Sassafras tree next to my Basil, Oregano, Peppermint, Corn, and Pomegranate tree pots. And just watered it when I watered the others. This spot happens to get about half a day's worth of direct sunlight. I knew a bit about how placement was important for each plant, but I was about to learn how important it could be I guess.

I had read that the tree likes to be in deep shaded valleys and gorges. Basically, it really likes the shade, as well as moist areas. So about a week and a half after I got it, I found that it's once green and red leaves were not brown and curled. I'm not sure if it will be able to survive, but I did replace it about 100 ft. away in a fully shaded area.

So the lesson is pretty obvious, as usual, but the application is truly what makes it worth sharing. I'm realizing now as I'm leading a school and wanting to see the best possible growth for everyone, I'm realizing I know a lot about watering, feeding, and caring for plants/people, but I don't really know or care enough about placement. So I'm starting to see where I might be putting people consistently in positions where they're forced to work in their weaknesses and sometimes might even in some cases end up getting fried like my tree. And with my longing to do permaculture, I've gotta start to learn how to place plants/people where they thrive and bless the surrounding people/plants the most. Don't know exactly how to do that with all the situations in my life right now, but like the tree, I will move it  the 100ft when I figure it out. Along with that, I need to check where I position myself from day to day.

Less is more

I hadn't been to my garden in about 2 to 3 weeks and was prepared for it all to be a death zone, but when I got there I found that my squash plants were huge, and had new ones growing. My tomatoes had finally started showing up. My cucumber had survived the transplant and neglect. And my rosemary was doing great. I'm not sure which analogy to run with in all of that.

One would be just learning to trust that life is possible without me. Ha. Maybe more possible even. It was great in terms of the continued analogy of it representing my long-distance relationships that I don't always get to. I've been continually seeing new fruit rise up in my friends and family around the world, that had nothing to do with me.

Another thing I could pull out of it, is that squash are very encouraging and I should plant more of them, just to give me something to smile about when other things are dying. You need to have at least some sort of "squash" to in your life that might not be your favorite food, but good none the less. That's so relevant to so many areas of my life, where I need to celebrate the life that is in front of me, and not always aim for the high risk, hard to maintain, dream plants.

Another would be that life has a way of surprising you. Especially in what survives, and what doesn't. It's so amazing to me that anything grows sometimes. Let alone the tomatoes and cucumbers that seem to have beat the odds in my garden. I've got so many amazing friendships and experiences in my life that I did not see coming, but now can't stop enjoying.