My mind as the farmer, and, my body as the land…This year, we both get a break; It is my fallow year. I’ve spent years planning, sewing, praying for rain, and harvesting my crops; moving through life as if it were a check off list to turn in once completed. I, like soil, am depleted. I will meet the weather patterns with ease, knowing I don’t depend on the rain. This year, I am a plot of land going untouched. I am reclaiming rest, remembering- it is work. I am gifting myself time to get back to my organic matter. I will accept the pauses that come along with the fallow; unlike lost income- my health cannot be replaced. I trust with time, the earth will replenish my soil. I will welcome each sunrise, simply grateful to see another day. I will accept droughts, floods, pests, and the scorching summer heat. This year, I will move slowly, breaking the cycles one season at a time.