The Fifth Floor

Earlier this month, I visited my parents to assist them with some change of life issues. They had recently moved into an independent living facility in Charlottesville, Virginia, and were dealing with the transition from the home they’d lived in for 16 years. As I got on the elevator to go to the fourth floor, their floor, I somewhat absentmindedly looked for a fifth floor button wondering how to get there. I was daydreaming, of course, since a fifth floor doesn’t really exist. It was, however, that metaphorical place “above” where we were at that moment. It is a place you can only get to with intention, patience, and practice. The fifth floor I began to ponder was a higher level of consciousness that many, including myself, strive to achieve through meditation or other similar practice that allows us to transcend the physical world where we are currently situated.

Extending this concept to the farm, orchard or vineyard: essentially, how do we get there from here? How do we assist the land in achieving its own higher level of consciousness; a higher, more balanced energy level? The immediate practical steps are obvious – improved biodiversity, optimal nutrition, eliminate use of toxic chemicals, clean air, and clean water among other tangible things. But what about the things we can’t see, measure, or manipulate through typical farming practices? As guides or stewards of the land, how do we get in touch with the unseen and not only comprehend a farm’s quantum imbalances, but understand the steps required to help rebalance them. Not to think we are so smart that all that’s needed is a clever trick or practice, because degraded farms do require time and a nurturing hand to rebalance themselves. Like a conductor of an orchestra, we have the ability to shift things in the right direction, but do we even know where to start?

Taking a traditional approach of analysis is an artifact of a limited way of thinking that not only do humans have the power to detect problems, but that we can fix them, too. The reality is that we do, up to a point, though that we don’t actually have the power to do much more than measure and analyze situations with metrics and superficial observations before trying some rational solutions. We do have an ability deep inside us to transcend these limitations if we can begin to “think outside the box.” If we shift our perception away from thinking that we can fix anything to that of a guide or conductor, then we can assist the land in healing itself. Certainly, as guide or conductor, we can implement certain practices – plant pollinator gardens, encourage mycorrhizal communities, and provide optimal nutrition – but we also need to allow the land to rest, recover, and revitalize on its own terms. Forcing anything will only result in failure, as will farming with a lack of patience or intention. I’ve thought of this process as similar to realigning ones chakras.

When I am scouting a farm, orchard or vineyard, I am not just looking for insect, disease, or nutritional issues; I am “feeling” the land, too. If I am on a conventional farm, the low energy levels are immediately apparent. There are few birds, insects, or signs of other life. There is a low vibrational feel to the land. But when I am on a holistic farm, signs of life abound and the land feels alive. Connecting spiritually with a piece of land is a sacred practice and is certainly no rhetorical exercise. It provides that critical link between the seen and unseen that allows us to understand what the land requires to heal. Connection is critical as it provides us with clarity and direction to know what we as stewards of the land need to do – and that really is the point after all, right?

Where is the fifth floor in your world?