I had planned to write about something more horticultural this week, but the topic that I had chosen would not settle and come together. Then, suddenly, another topic and a stream of thoughts crossed my mind. They felt appropriate for this date and time. And so, I will run with it. While I hope that everything that I write brings ideas, useful information or resources, and even support to each person that reads it, I hope that this article particularly brings a strengthening of resolve and purpose to those that need it.
“… this life is a test. It is a test of many things – of our convictions and priorities, our faith and our faithfulness, our patience and our resilience, and in the end, our ultimate desires.”
Life is never a smooth and simple path. We have good days and bad days. Tough months and ones filled with joy. Years filled with fun and memories and excitement and ones that you would rather had not happened or could have had a tad less challenge, change, misery, and hardship (cough, cough … 2020 … cough, cough).
Throughout my career, I have developed a deep connection and investment in what I consider “MY” industries and “MY” growers. I care deeply about their success. I feel sadness when someone is negatively affected by some event or happening. I feel concern for the individuals, their families, their businesses, and their crops. I cannot help it. Heck, I do the same thing in my other interest areas.
This past week or so has provided several examples that sometimes life does not go as planned. Big storms brought needed rain to many areas, but devastating and destructive weather came with it to some areas. Crops have been ruined; plants damaged. Farmers know better than most people do that things can go off the rails quickly, although you will not hear most of them grumble about it all that much. It is one of the many things that I admire about farmers.
Farmers are made of some form of tough, living rubber. Rubber is a fascinating material. It is somewhat stiff, holding its shape through most of the conditions it finds itself in, but it is also flexible at the same time. It absorbs the shock and stress of impact, change, and pressure. It might give a little, but ultimately it holds its form and shape and resumes its normal state quickly. It is RESILIENT.
What a great word. RESILIENT.
Resilient (or resiliency) is defined as “the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties (toughness); the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape (elasticity)”.
There are many examples of resilience in nature, even in the plants that many of us enjoy. Trees bend and flex in the wind, but what you cannot see on the surface is the molecular changes that are occurring in the underlying tissues because of the natural resiliency of the tree. The tissues are being reinforced and strengthened, gradually becoming resistant to all but the strongest gusts of wind. A tomato plant that is buried a bit deeper or on a slight angle develops supporting roots off the stem and a stronger stem. Transplants that are exposed to some stress coming out of the greenhouse are tougher and more able to weather the strains and stresses of the full outdoors. Plants (and the humans that care for them) are resilient. They flex and bend and adjust. And they are better for it.
I have seen examples of these qualities many times over the years, but especially this week. Let me illustrate what I observed in a couple of “my” growers’ situations. Maybe we can all learn from them.
Example #1:
A big storm (at least the 2nd one this spring for that particular area) tore through one part of Alberta, pounding this grower’s crops. Thousands of dollars in invested inputs were trashed in minutes, along with hundreds of hours of labour that had been put towards getting the crops into and out of the ground. Who knows how many dollars damage was done to buildings and equipment? And yet, despite the devastation of losing a good chunk of a valuable crop for a 2nd year in a row, you did not hear much from them about it. There were some pictures of the aftermath and the work to make repairs (both times), but nothing much more than that. But the real lesson I take from them came just days later, as they posted a picture of one unscathed field that had been spared. You could feel their obvious gratitude rolling off them. That is resilience and elasticity. They did not wallow. They just acknowledged the struggle and then got back at it. I have seen the same in other growers. Their crops take a beating and they reseed something needing a shorter season and they move forward.
Example #2:
A different part of that same storm pounded through the orchard of another of “my” growers, wrecking a good portion of the crop, and potentially damaging the long-term health and investment of the orchard (which could stretch 30 years or more). This is not the first time a crop has been lost, but the randomness of a hailstorm can be more upsetting, as the lines between damaged and undamaged can be razor thin. However, I was humbled to watch the resilience demonstrated by this family. They assessed the damage and then considered different options for moving forward, both in the short-term and over the long-term. They kept working. They adjusted their plans, but they did not quit. That is resilience and elasticity.
Lessons and Principles
I have been taught (and experienced the principle firsthand), that we cannot appreciate good if we do not know what bad looks like. Sometimes those differences are subtle and nuanced. But in all things, there needs to be contrast. There must be opposition for us to become stronger. This is a hard lesson to learn and an even harder one to accept. But it is what it is. It is all a part of a plan that is bigger than each of us. It resonates throughout each element of the universe.
But, for myself, I am grateful for the examples that I encounter all the time that show that even if you see (or experience) some bad, you don’t have to lay down and stay stuck where you were pounded in. Resilience is possible and is something we can (and should) aspire to and try to develop. I know that whatever comes my way, I can weather the literal and figurative storms. It might hurt. It might be a bit uncomfortable. It might be hard to see the end from the middle of it. But, at the end of it all, you will be stronger and better for the experience. The destination will probably not look like what you had envisioned back in the tough times, but I am confident (and hopeful) that it will be better.