Where Earth Meets Practice
It was my second time attending the Meditation as Medicine gathering at Pure Land Farms. The first visit left an impression on me, so returning felt natural. I’m always paying attention to spaces that feel aligned with the land and with the rhythms of cultivation. Pure Land has quietly become one of those places.
Like before, we began gathered around a table beneath a shaded tree. Tea was poured and passed. This time it was Buddha’s Hand fruit tea, grown on the property — citrus-like, fragrant, slightly sweet. The pace was unhurried, conversational.
Last time the focus had been on air. This gathering centered on earth and water. We planted chili seeds together, pressing them gently into the soil. The act was simple, but deliberate — hands in dirt, attention grounded.
Later, we were invited to walk the property and meditate with a new mantra. I climbed up the hillside as the sun began to drop, settling into the quiet just as the light softened. The valley stretched wide below. The moment felt steady and undramatic, which made it all the more complete.
The format of the workshop is intentionally repetitive, and I’m starting to appreciate that. There is something reassuring about returning to a similar structure while allowing the content to shift. The familiarity lowers resistance. It allows the body to settle more quickly.
Planting chili seeds after having planted chamomile last time made the contrast clear. Chamomile is soft and calming. Chili carries heat and activation. Earth and water, in this context, weren’t abstract elements — they were tactile, edible, embodied.
The warm salt compress practice toward the end brought the theme into the body. Heat, weight, pressure, and scent worked together in a quiet way. It wasn’t intense. It was grounding. The kind of medicine that reminds you that care doesn’t have to be complicated.
What continues to draw me back is the integration of land and practice. Nothing felt separate — planting, tea, mantra, compress, conversation. The environment participates. Being there reinforces something I’ve been learning slowly: alignment with the land is not conceptual. It is physical, seasonal, and participatory.
If grounding your meditation in the rhythms of the land resonates, The Journey Through Meditation ebook offers a simple framework for integrating breath, awareness, and elemental balance into daily life — whether in a garden, on a hillside, or at home. Grab your copy here.
