I go through bins…

And I’m not afraid to share that.

I’m just back in the door from an incredible week in Melbourne for The Compassion Revolution.

A conference specifically for the healthcare industry to make work beautiful.

But this conference is appropriate for everyone.

I’m a farmer so I’m also essentially in healthcare (thank you Pat Wall for this realisation).

Thank you Mary Freer and Claire Wathen from the bottom of my heart for having me.

The tiniest repayment was to be able to share my small knowledge and understanding of compost and seeds.

The most incredible thing about compost?

It’s both the end and the beginning.

The exquisite model of nature itself. Circularity.

What we compost and define as waste, is actually the basis of everything we grow.

Compost - made up of the stuff we no longer need, becomes the environment for the bountiful growth of the seeds we plant.

What we also view as a “waste of time”, a “wasted experience” or even more deeply - trauma, a painful experience is something that can break down to nourish a seed for personal growth.

If we let it.

As my friend Raquel Martos would explain, in a similar fashion, a box of fruit left to fester in a plastic bag becomes a stinky soup of grossness.

A box of fruit naked in a compost pile interacts with the microbes and becomes an earthy crumbly medium for new life to grow.

Gregory Lorenzutti ran a breakout workshop at the conference.

Writing and dance.

Alongside professors, nurses, doctors, surgeons and practitioners we danced, wrote, laughed, whispered and shouted. Moving just as we as humans were intended to do.

Nartarsha and Gangi invited us to dance, just as the original farmers of this dry, spectacular land did for thousands of years before us.

It was humbling to be so welcomed by these beautiful people.

As it was humbling to speak in the concluding session.

Linking life to the land.

Compost is the end but also to the beginning.

Planting seeds.

Taking seeds with us to plant in our communities.

Unique seeds. With their very own DNA and microbes.

What’s any of this got to do with going through people’s bins?

If you’re a local to Scone, you might have spotted me underneath an upturned wheelie bin, emptying the contents into a box to take home.

I methodically sort and distribute.

Bagged bread, muffins and vegetables for the pigs.

Sandwiches, pies and fruit for the hens.

Coffee grinds and cups for the compost heap.

I constantly add to my compost heap. And I don’t mind sorting through bins to do it.

I invite you to start your own compost heap.

You never know what you might grow.

Kylie x