Returning to Fertile Ground: Nourishing What Lies Dormant

Last December, I found myself staring at a blank page, feeling as though the soil of my creativity had become compacted and unyielding. Words that once flowed easily seemed trapped beneath a hardened surface as we settled into winter. Rather than forcing the issue—mentally "tilling" my way through—I decided to try something counterintuitive: I stepped away and allowed my "field" to just be.

For three months, I didn't post or publish. Instead, I mulched the soil of my mind with reading, conversations, and quiet observation. I let the ideas decompose naturally, without forcing growth. And now, as March ends and spring emerges, I am noticing the first tender shoots breaking through—not because I violently tilled the soil, but because I trusted the natural process of renewal.

What areas of your life have become hard-packed soil? Where have you been trying to force growth through aggressive tilling rather than patient nourishment? Perhaps it's a relationship that feels stuck, a creative practice that's stalled, or a personal goal that seems impossible to reach. What would happen if, instead of breaking up the soil with force, you began to nourish it with attention, organic matter, and trust in natural processes?

Here's how nature works:

1. Hardened soil needs covering, not exposure
When soil becomes compacted, conventional wisdom suggests breaking it up. But regenerative farmers know that covering it with mulch, compost, and protection actually allows microbial life to rebuild from within. In our lives, this might mean protecting our vulnerable areas rather than exposing them to harsh scrutiny.

2. Renewal works from the bottom up
In natural systems, renewal doesn't happen from the top down. It begins with the smallest organisms—fungi, bacteria, insects—that create pathways for water, nutrients, and eventually roots. Our own renewal follows a similar pattern, starting with small, often invisible shifts in perspective or habit.

3. Patience produces permanence
Quick fixes in gardening—like tilling—provide immediate visual results but ultimately weaken the soil structure. Nourishment takes longer but creates lasting change. The same applies to our personal growth, relationships, and creative endeavors.

4. Every dormant period prepares for future abundance
In nature, dormancy isn't failure—it's preparation. Winter's rest makes spring's growth possible. Your period of apparent inactivity might actually be the necessary foundation for what comes next.

As we close out March and welcome April, I invite you to join me in this practice of nourishing rather than forcing. I'm returning to regular sharing not because I've aggressively tilled my creative soil, but because I've allowed it to rebuild naturally. Next month, we'll explore how this same principle applies to our relationships—with ourselves, others, money, work, and ideas.

What one area of hard soil in your life could benefit from nourishment rather than force?

I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments or an email reply.

XOXO~Jill