Sick today, and it's been coming. Running a rest deficit. Woke at 3am today to deliver food in the city. Returned to harvest for tomorrow's market and was benched by the farm elder, 70 year old Emila who wears two harvest knives and out cuts every young whipper snapper on the farm on lettuce and wit.
She said, "Your eyes look small. They're talking about if you're okay, and you've been pushing hard, we don't need you today."
I laughed it off and she told me to go to bed, not get sick. I said, I thought we chop wood and carry water. After a nap, she suggested. So, I slept until about 10:30 and my right eye was pinned shut by a headache and I felt nauseous (on pancake day?!). I didn't feel any better in the rack, so out to fields I went, looking like what my mother used to say was death swarmed over.
The farm elder let me slip in, and the manager gave me an easy job: cutting wild nettles that pop up in our rows. My headache receded to the background and nausea was just a strange feeling as I walked carefully through our huge broccoli plants, hunting the sharp little plants. Not a heroic assignment, but a wonderful way to spend time being sick.
What made me go back to the fields was this sangha, this farm crew, who were really concerned for me. Emila laid down the law and benched me, but everyone expressed their concern. And harvest knife in hand, I could focus.
This is an amazing life. Thick fog has set in over the temple and green dragons play in it. Below, we play in the fields. Our customers can't fathom how we sell such huge bunches of greens for just 2 dollars, and it's because love of the dirt is our investment, our return is being able to live here, together.
The 2 dollars is just for fun.