February Reflections from Cassava Acres

Community, children, land—and the leadership lessons emerging between them

Lately I cannot stop noticing the many layered ways that what I’m learning about tending land and working with nature mirrors what I’m learning about community stewardship, and in many ways how motherhood has been shaping me over the past decade.

It’s beautiful to notice, but also its really not in a poetic, metaphor-for-the-sake-of-it-way-but in a very practical, sometimes uncomfortable, often inconvenient, deeply humbling way. In fact, I’ve considered writing a poem about it, and it just hasn’t hit (stay tuned, I’ll keep working on it!!)

The past year I’ve intentionally set out to embody what felt like two very different roles: leading community and tending living land. In my head, I held them as separate—two skills, two boxes. Except life doesn’t compartmentalize like that.

This February illuminated for me that these aren’t separate hats, and also aren’t separate from my mothering. All three roles demand the same: presence, patience, responsibility.

These threads are beginning to take form as a leadership framework—one rooted in lived experience that reflects what this work actually looks and feels like in practice. I’m excited to share it once the language fully comes alive.

For today I wanted to give some context of where I’m at and share a February Recap (only one week late, which is actually on par for how the month went LOL).  

Root and Rise:
This month, Root & Rise kicked things off by hosting Robin Greenfield, who walked the property with our group, teaching us to identify and forage plants. He invited us to view plants as “friends”, to be in relationship with Mother Earth. His presence was contagious – equal parts enthusiasm, curiosity, and kindness – making us all feel welcome and connected to Earth in a new way.

The following week we embarked on a Unit Study diving into the foundations: The Four Elements. Week by week, guided by yours truly and my dear friend Sierra, we held space for the kids to investigate our relationships with Earth, Water, Air and Fire.

Week one, Sierra kicked things off with Earth. She shared about how all of the Elements are everywhere we look, including inside ourselves. We talked about where food comes from. And her husband who is a carpenter joined in and helped the kids build a bug hotel we’d continue to work on over the month-giving critters a cozy space for every element.

We splashed through water, making art with water and oil and colors, discussing how water moves, where it collects, and how life depends on it. Then I jumped in to cover Air, bringing a sense of play as we considered the invisible forces that move through the world around us and inside our bodies.

And then there was fire. Easily the highlight for our crew. With lots of preparation around safety and respect, they learned the foundations of fire building-how to gather kindling and tinder, how to structure a small fire, and how to use different tools and materials. The sheer excitement as the kids started to see smoke form using a magnifying glass and heat from the sun. There was something so captivating about watching their faces as sparks turned into small flames. Of course, we wrapped up by roasting hot dogs and marshmallows – a timeless use of fire. You could feel that familiar sense when a core memory is being made, as well as the subtle sense that an ancient memory was awakening, connecting us with ancestors who have been gathering around fire forever.

Alongside the structured learning, something else unfolded during free play time. With a few tweaks to boundaries, several of us moms noticed a natural gravitation to deeper nature play – playing with sticks, rocks, dirt, and plants differently, disappearing into imaginative worlds within the landscape. As our kids continue to grow closer, they seem to be more easily immersed in the environment as well. This is what Root and Rise is all about: building curiosity, confidence, and connection with another and the land.

Our month also included a themed Valentines Day potluck and Valentine's exchange for the kids, highlighting friendship. And we also snuck in a visit to our favorite local nursing facility to make Valentine’s crafts with the residents—a week later than planned, after a little bug passed through their community.

Personal

In the background I tended to a few resets for myself and my family.

I registered Ceanna for gymnastics (something she’s been begging for far too long).

I recommitted myself to the basics: returning to some form of a daily workout, along with a return to more intention, depth, and creativity in my home cooked meals. These are all things I love so not necessarily hard, but they’ve been slipping through the cracks with life lately.

I pulled back from social media and tech in general, which you can read more about here.

Then naturally, as happens when you make loads of commitments – the universe tends to say, ‘ya sure?’ …, Kenny got hit with one of the hardest illnesses his body has faced yet. We lost sleep for days and I had to revert to feeding myself nearly double for over a week to accommodate his increased nusing needs. He’s back to himself now, but I can still feel my body trying to recover. I had to lean on my village during this time more than normal and I was reminded how grateful I am for the people in our life who love us. It was also a reminder that life is about practice, not perfection. Commitments are important—but they rarely unfold with ease. 

Finally, there is a larger backdrop many of us are carrying right now. I hesitate to step into politics, but I can’t fully explain where I am right now without naming what’s lurking in the shadows of all our minds: the release of the Epstein files. News that is almost impossible to absorb, and yet impossible to ignore. Like many parents, when I finally faced it, I felt that familiar tightening in my chest—the way the body reacts when safety is threatened, evil exposed, when the world reminds us of its shadow. This too cannot be compartmentalized. It happened. It continues to happen. And the systems meant to protect us, the systems we all grew up learning to trust– we now have to face how broken they are, because they are the same systems blatantly allowing evil to persist.

All of this and so much more simultaneously – a busy month for Cassava Acres, a busy month for my family, being forced to slow down while not really able to slow down in the middle of it, meanwhile grieving collectively with our whole world - I can’t help but notice, walking into March I’m a different person.

Leadership has risen in me in an entirely different dimension.

Not panic. Not rage. But ownership.

A deeper commitment to protecting what is sacred. To strengthening the nervous systems of my children and those in my community. To building community rooted in truth, safety, and care. To tending land, relationships, and culture in ways that make connection inevitable (because connection is in fact a necessary thread in life).

This is the framework I am living, refining, and practicing every day.

^^Our group’s current obsession has been digging for Florida betony, which the kids have dubbed “rattlesnake tails.” Robin Greenfield introduced us to this crunchy, edible “weed,” whose small tubers can be pulled straight from the soil.

Harvesting it is a win for both people and land. For the kids, it’s a playful foraging treasure hunt and a hands-on lesson in where food comes from. For the land, removing the tubers helps control a plant that spreads aggressively underground while gently loosening the soil.

Song of the month: Earth My Body