Leisha Today is the day before we begin the Live Blood Analysis workshop, and I can feel the fullness of everything that has brought us here. I think we have completed the schedules, the food purchase, the teachings, the manuals, the rooms and all the details checked. It is all of it together. It is the years of work, the gardens, the kitchen, the people, the team, the blood, the soil, the microbes, and the constant learning that happens when you are actually living what you teach.
Last week, we hosted another retreat here at Living Ground. We made sure everyone was well fed, housed, comfortable, and cared for. It was a lot of work, but we did it. I was with the girls every morning, starting between 6:30 and 7:00, and most days I did not get home until after supper, usually after 7:00 at night. We prepped meals, adjusted recipes, improved what we had planned, and made the best of what was available. Somehow, in the middle of all the pressure, we created beautiful food and a good experience for the group. I was fully aware that all of us were stretched beyond our known capacity.
What I learned last week helped me completely rethink the menu for this week. So, the workload increased and I redesigned this weeks meals so they are easier, more organized, and smoother for the kitchen. The menu needed to be more realistic and doable for the girls. After last week, I know now what needs to be prepared ahead, what takes too much time, what flows well, and what creates stress when too many things are happening at once. This is how Living Ground grows. We do, we learn, we fail, we adjust, and then we do it better.
This week will be different because I will not be able to help the girls in the same way. I will be teaching and leading the group. Now is time to trust what the girls have learned and trust their abilities, their rhythm, and their care. I know they are capable, and they are capable. This is part of their growth too. We will all make mistakes and that is okay.
I, Leisha, am particular about details. I care about presentation that the coffee is hot, the snack table is full, the bowls look abundant, the cups are ready, the water is filled, and everything feels like it is flowing.
These things matter to me because people feel them, even if they do not always notice them directly. A space can feel cared for, or it can feel forgotten. Food can be put out, or it can be offered. There is a difference, and I care deeply about that difference.
On Tuesday afternoon, our group will be assembling a microbe compost pile with the participants. This feels important to me because it brings the teaching out of the classroom and back to the earth. We can talk about the human microbiome, the blood, the terrain, and the internal ecosystem, but then we must also put our hands into the soil and remember where the story begins. The earth and the human body are intimately connected. The soil food web, the microbes, the roots, the minerals, the plants, the food, the gut, and the blood are not separate stories. They are one living conversation. I open an invitation to others to join us Tuesday afternoon if you want to participate. We begin at 1 pm at the Project Site.
The boys will also be spraying our property with microbes, which is something we have not done in a while because our schedules have been so full. It is time. It is also a good time because the windy, dry season is beginning to settle in, and the land needs support just as much as we do. We are available to spray your property too, if you would like to book us. It is one of the simplest ways to bring life back to the land and support the living systems beneath our feet.
Today, I will spend time contemplating it all as I am doing while I am writing this.
What Matters!
I am thinking about what matters most and what needs to come first. I know I cannot hold every single piece by myself, and maybe that is part of the lesson. Living Ground has grown beyond just me doing everything. It has become a living system, and like any living system, every part has to learn its role. The soil has its microbes. The plants have their roots. The kitchen has its rhythm. The classroom has its purpose. The people have their gifts. My job is not to control every detail, but to help the whole thing come alive. It is time for me to relax in the busy-ness and not worry about things like I do. I am reminding myself we are not perfect, but we are good.
That is what this work has always been about for me. The blood is not separate from the soil. The human microbiome is not separate from the soil biome. The health of the body is not separate from the health of the land, the food, the water, the emotions, the community, and the unseen life that holds everything together. When I teach Live Blood Analysis, I am not just teaching people to look at blood. I am teaching them to see relationship, to see terrain. I am teaching them to remember that life is always communicating.
A beautiful note is sitting on my table at the moment. It is a reminder for me. Sometimes I see all the flaws. I see what still needs fixing, improving, organizing, cleaning, changing, and refining. I notice where we are not perfect. But there is also beauty in what we are doing and a frequency here. There is care here. There is something real here. I need to relax into that a little more and trust that doing our best is enough.
So today, the day before we begin, I am taking inventory of my life, my work, and my heart. What matters most right now is clear. I desire this week to be meaningful, the students to feel supported, the team to feel proud of themselves. I desire the food to nourish, the gardens to be part of the teaching and people to leave here understanding something deeper about their bodies, their blood, their microbes, and their connection to the earth.
Tomorrow we begin, and today I am sitting in the strange and beautiful place before the beginning. I
I am tired, yes, but I am also grateful. I am grateful for the work, for the team, for the people coming, for everything we learned last week, and for the chance to keep building something that feels alive.
Living Ground has never been perfect, but it is real. It is growing, and so are we. Thank you God for all you gift us with and lead our hands and hearts with the intention of love.
