What I love most about life, is the alchemical process of transformation.  What is the secret of our rubbish becoming rich and fertile soil again?

I salute the village and residents of Darabkola in Northern Iran for initiating the village-wide movement to turn their kitchen waste into compost.  Our project, Soil Alchemy, started in December 2017.  It has been a beautiful start with the village folk bringing their kitchen rubbish along with their love and labour to make the community compost.  The village municipality supplied us with gloves, straw, cow manure, lime, and water.  Trees for Hope invested in the forks needed to turn the compost.  A third local NGO, Children of the Good Earth, informed and gathered the local residents.  This project ran for six months and fell asleep for the time being.

I think the Soil Alchemy project needs to wake up at a nation-wide scale.  Why?  When the Soil Alchemy project is awake and operating, it not only helps to transform our waste to rich soil, the base of our true wealth and health, it transforms our social and mental diseases to pure cultural gold.  Compost making then becomes a sacred act.  An activity worthy of our lives, of every hour we dedicate to this transformation.  This is why I think the Soil Alchemy needs to wake us up, all over the place 🥰. 

​© Pupak Haghighi

My workshop, Chrystal, is situated right next to the Original Garden, here in the Findhorn Community.  

We are at 57˚N latitude, which means 'At this latitude the sun is visible for 17 hours, 53 minutes during the summer solstice and 6 hours, 43 minutes during the winter solstice' (wikipedia). It also means it can get quite cold, practically any time of the year, except for a few days when I could wear a light summer dress.  

In our cold climatic conditions it takes me considerable time and energy to heat up Chrystal to work there.  I therefore need to prepare myself and the space, warming up inside, as I warm up Chrystal to make a work of art, singing with the colours of the soul.

On this cold autumn day, I had an appointment to speak with one of my Soil Alchemy partners in Northern Iran.  Soil Alchemy is our village compost project, the aim of it being transforming all the kitchen waste of the entire village of about 3000 residents to rich and fertile compost.  I switched off the heater, brought my work to completion for the day, turned off the light, and left Chrystal for my contact with Aref.  By the time I reached my home, Chrystal was resting back in the autumn cold and darkness.

What is the essence of compost?  A handful of compost might contain the very secrets of universe : infinite space/time, the heart of the mystery of life/death/life.  

In a loving relationship, I visualise the other and myself in the infinity symbol, our relationship going through the creative source of the universe.  In this way both myself and the other are free to be true to our essence.  I release all that is dead back to the source.  I wait for the miracle of life to show me signs of love, beauty, and hope.  And when I receive the signal in my heart, I make soul compost, a work of art, in Chrystal, my beloved workshop right next to the Original Garden, here in the Findhorn Community.

​© Pupak Haghighi

I am reading Eileen Caddy's remarkable book 'Flight Into Freedom.' 

A particular workshop on the balance of the feminine and masculine energies within the self piqued my interest.  Eileen writes about a meditative exercise to see the symbols of your inner feminine and masculine.

I am fortunate to be living in Findhorn, and to go to the early morning meditation from 6.30-7.30 in the morning regularly.  This morning, in the deep space of the Sanctuary, I asked for the symbols of my inner feminine and masculine.  I saw birds, not a particular type of bird, rather bird energy as my feminine.  For the masculine I saw a beautiful old tree.  Then they came together ... birds on the tree!

Eileen mentioned a next step.  The Feminine and Masculine energies together produce a third kind of synergy, something of its own kind.  I asked what my combined energy would be?  I received the sound OM.  How round and beautiful, I thought!

A year has passed since we begun our Soil Alchemy project in Northern Iran, in Darabkola, a village in Mazandaran.  

Soil Alchemy is a project to transform the kitchen waste of the entire village, a population of 3000 residents to rich and fertile compost.

I am proud and grateful to our Soil-Focalisers in Darabkola, Parvin and Faeze.  Also grateful to our Soil-Alchemy partner, Aref.  They are doing one of the most loving acts for the land, their village, and our country.

​May their weekly compost making acts grow and blossom year on year.

I warn you this is a miracle story!  Read at your own risk :).

On Sunday 29th of May, I wanted to explore the mountains around Tatvan.  I texted a number of people I know in town but no one wanted to come along.  So 'come as it may' I said and set out.

​At first I went to the site where we decided to hold the 'Earth Healing Gathering.' It is a boarding school for out of town children in the area.  Once there I decided to keep walking up the road.  Nazli, a friend of mine from Tatvan had told me the road will eventually join the mountains and the forests.  While walking a number of local people asked me where I was going.  I just said 'there' pointing to the mountain.  I could understand that there aren't many visitors like me walking about their streets.  But no one bothered me, or tried to stop me, which is a noble characteristic of the Tatvanese people, for which I love them.

As I walked away from town, I noticed the population of wild plants started to increase.  At first I noticed the nettles, then a tree whose leaves look like oak, then hawthorn, and my excitement was perked.  

Children noticed me, a stranger in their world, and started to follow me, saying 'hello' in English.  I answered them in kind.  Then a local man told me how to find the path to the mountain.  I saw two Kurdish women tilling their land for new crops. They too were startled to see a stranger like me walking in their part of the world, but they did not bother me.  They also asked where are you going?  'To the church?' they asked.  'Yes' I said. That way, that way, they pointed to the mountain.

On and up I walked.  I was then clearly out of town and into wilderness in a very short distant.  As I approached the foothill of the mountain I noticed the increase in biodiversity already.  My excitement became palpable as I saw the beautiful colony of moss and lichen together on an impressive piece of rock.  I noticed a marble kind of stone strewn on the path.  The beauty of the stone touched my heart deeply and I rejoiced at the rocks.  

By this time, to go further I had to climb a big rock, using both my arms and legs.  I was acutely aware that I had been suffering from a frozen shoulder from the beginning of the year, for about five months now.  My left arm was almost incapacitated and I could not lift it fully. 'How could I climb this rock?' I thought.  'I will climb this rock' I heard my inner voice say.  By this time I started to feel a lightness in my left shoulder.  This was a new sensation for me since my frozen shoulder syndrome started almost half a year ago.  I lightened my load, leaving my rucksack behind and only carrying my camera up with me.  I grabbed the rock and climbed noticing that my left shoulder and arm were easing from the pain and tightness that had inhibited me for so long.

Up and onward I walked, feeling a little lonely, wishing some of my friends had come along there.  Just then, in the distant, on top of a rock I saw the silhouette of a man sitting on a rock.  It felt like an instant granting of a wish!

As I emerged from the rock-climbing, I had a chance to look around.  Then I saw the shape of an old Armenian church that was abandoned now.  The air felt very pure and clean here.  I felt a natural pull to go and explore the area around the abandoned church.  I also noticed  the increased life force around this part, including more insects like grasshopper and bees.  As I walked around I noticed a very welcoming sensation in my body, a lightness of being, especially in my left arm and shoulder.  I became aware of this sensation and welcomed it.  I also was aware of an immense grief that lived in this spot.  As I approached the old church, somehow I could not hold my tears back.  I just allowed myself to feel what was happening.  I walked, I felt the land, I cried, I also rejoiced for being here. Then I felt something lifting from my body.  Startled, I raised my left arm.  Lo and behold, I could raise my arm!  This was something I was not able to do for a few months!  And then I really started to cry!  I felt deeply touched by the spirit and grace of this land.

Just then I heard the animals.  Looking over to the other side I saw a herd of goats, just coming down the mountains.  Accompanying them was a young shepherd whose silhouette I had seen earlier.  We greeted each other and soon, established that between Farsi and Kurdi, we could communicate, somehow.  It did not take long for us to build a rapport.  I asked Momet, the shepherd to take a photo of me.  He quickly learned how to use my rather complex camera.  Gingerly I raised my arms, and they went up!  My joy was immense!

​After spending a little time with Momet and his goats, I pointed to the rock I saw him on earlier.  'Is it far?' I asked in Farsi.  'Not very far,' he said in Kurdi.  I am going there, I told him.  'This is the way,' he said.  I was overjoyed at this stage to discover how much we could communicate by our kin yet distanced, languages.

As I climbed up and higher, I witnessed even more plant and biodiversity, feeling truly in heaven!  From the top of the rocks I had an eagle's point of view to see all around.  I could sadly see the pollution of the lake too and wished to communicate ways in which this pollution could be avoided.

Momet joined me a little while later on the top rock and we communicated some more through the delightful common words we kept discovering between Farsi and Kurdi.  Soon he left with his herd of goats.  I slowly made my way down, but slowly.  Touched by the spirit of the mountain, I stopped here and there to take photographs of the marvels and beauties I saw all around me.  

As I descended the path of the mountain toward civilisation,  I kept hearing a verse from Hafiz in my head in Farsi : 'فیض روح اقدس ار باز مدد فرماید
'.دیگران هم بکنند آنچه مسیحا می کرد
Which roughly translates as ' If the holy spirit graces us again, others too will do what Christ had done.'

I saw Momet the last time on this day.  I shouted from the top of the mountain, 'where is the path?' He was small as a speck at the bottom of the mountain but he heard me.  With his infinite kindness he pointed the way and waited to see that I find the path.  Then he was gone.

At the bottom of the mountain I was a transformed person!  As I walked through the neighbourhood, I found I could connect with people more easily.  I greeted those who looked at me with 'Merhaba.'  'Hoş geldiniz' I heard people say from their home windows, which means 'welcome.'  I felt the mountain was talking to me.  

 

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