I am declaring a Fallow Year.
Several signs pointed me in this direction, including a dream where I had just unplugged my tablet, and the battery was not fully charged. It showed only 43% power.
I know this is true, because despite finally closing on parents house, the last piece in the puzzle to manage since dad died, and mom went to assisted living, I feel really whipped. No amount of positive affirmation is taking root. In fact, I have spent time honoring how crappy I feel.
The sad thing is, I don’t really know how to be fallow. In farming it’s a condition of allowing the soil, the ground, to rejuvenate and replenish after too many harvests. Maybe farmers don’t do this anymore. Crop rotation was something I learned way back in grade school and possibly with chemical fertilizers that’s not done anymore
( looking at YOU corporate farms.)
So it was just another sign when my husband went to check on the compost bin and said… nothing had composted over the winter, it was useless.
So back to being fallow.
Right now, simply stating this position is giving me some peace. I am not dropping responsibilities for mom, my job or my home. But, I am recognizing that the time of frenzied activity and worry is past.
First off, I am not planting a garden. How’s that for literal interpretation? I have some large pots we can put annuals in, and I will plant a couple small basil plants. This gives me some beauty in the yard, and less clean up in the fall and next spring.
Second, I can stop timing everything I do.
Last year I lived in my car – taking dad to treatments , mom to doctors, making sure they had groceries and maintaining their house. Now, I can go back to being a daughter, and visit mom in the assisted living where she gets a lot better care than I could ever give her, in her home.
Perhaps allowing this as a fallow time will restore my intuition and spiritual capacities. That might not be the right word. But both aspects of “me” have been seriously burned out by the past year.