Naturally OK
There is a phrase I radically disagree with. “Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life!" And while that may have merit in the sentence, those who actually practice and work within what they love, the phrase should read “Do what you love and you’ll work every day of your life for it.” That is a bit more accurate, but that’s just as I see it.
Almost four years since the last time I added to this page may reflect the latter sentence, that what I love often exists in the institution of Nature and intersection of environmental conservation and people. Where these roads cross, my life runs parallel to this calling of living a life in service to the Land and that which comes from her bounty. However, a life in service to such an expansive and broad scope of environmental work does not always mean that life is balanced. It is a choice I make to give the energy and effort of my existence to these projects, and not a day nor hour passes that it crosses my mind or through my hands. This is no longer work that I do, but the life I lead.
This is not intended to be a diary, but rather a tool that tells the story of finding peace in a world that is disrupted by a litany of destruction, of terror, of hopelessness, devastation and defeat. Because in the face of adversity, when we find ways to create impact and implement change, whether that is personal, in our garden bed, in our neighbor’s life, or the companionship of our allies and partners, this is the rootstock of hope, and where our understanding of place and purpose germinates.
Since my last update, personally I experienced a deep amount of change and upheaval. Some necessary, some painful, some of it is blooming today, where other wounds are visible still. Mosaic Gardens moved from a small property in midtown to West Tulsa, into a humble yellow house. The gardens were removed and uninstalled and transfered to the new property. Precious soil shoveled onto tarps in the back of a moving truck, alongside cannibalized pallets, stones, pea gravel, and three years of plants. My partner and I were married just before that move took place. However this relationship would not continue and our divorce was finalized in January, 2025. In that transition, Mosaic Gardens moved to a property in Northwest Tulsa that has a cozy fireplace and an attached greenhouse built next to the garage. This is where the roots of new growth were established. Not six months after this was finalized, my Father passed quickly after a series of cancers metastasized. He left this world in peace after undergoing a series of treatments that ultimately would not extend his life or improve the quality of it. These massive upheavals in my life were debilitating, and forever galvanized where I believe my purpose lies while on this Earth.
For some reason, we seem to mistake healing and growth and something that is interchangeable, yet these experiences lead me to believe that they are mutualistic. One cannot heal appropriately if there is not an array of growth that you can pull strength from. Yet we cannot grow well if our energy is being sapped to continually nurse and heal wounds. We can see the Post oak as an example of managing to grow and set leaves, while also recover and compartmentalize the decay from damage previously experienced. To take a lesson from the strength of oaks is something that I see on a daily basis as a resilient, adaptive and functional example of peace I strive to achieve in this life. To live through the experiences a life in this modern environment produces, but to also remain stubbornly upright while providing habitat and sustenance for the companions within the ecosystem.
Though, there lies in this same soil of turmoil, seeds I have been tending. For three years, I have taken the role as Tulsa County’s Naturalist, based at Chandler Park. This opportunity has been the platform of both the deepening and broadening of my work, traveling across the state to provide environmental education and conservation services, programs, and the pursuit of partnership. In this time, these efforts have served more than 61,000 individuals through this initiative, countless miles of travel, days worth of presentations and classes, 400+ milkweed plants established, $9,800 in grants written and received successfully, while opening the Samuel Washington Woodhouse Nature Center in 2024 as a base of operations for these projects.
This life I lead is evidence that Nature does not make waste, or leave space uninhabited. And perhaps the holes I have found in my life have been made and cultivated into habitat for new life, new growth, and new strength to pursue what I recognize now is no longer my work, but the life I will lead. So, perhaps in reflection I realize that some days I feel the wounds more than others, but in the end it is fair to say that naturally, I am OK.
