Pickles as a Place to Start

My life revolved around pickles this summer. I quite literally ate, slept, and drank pickles. For those of you still not grasping the extent of this independent study–I cupbourded Ball jars of mustard seeds, coriander, and dill, depuffed my eyes with slice after slice of cucumber, and was nicknamed “brine witch” after spending many afternoons over a pot of vinegar, water, and salt. 

Pickles offer us many stories. From their prickly beginnings as cucumbers in my garden to their time spent saturating in brine before they are ready for consumption, I am grateful to learn from such a seasoned teacher. We all start out as cucumbers growing from seed, to flower, to fruit. Each one of us embarking on our pickling journey to saturate ourselves in what makes our unique life most meaningful. This connection to ourselves is an ever changing process of learning and growth where the brine is our compass, guiding principles, and the gut feelings we embody. 

Cucumbers taste different after a quick dip in their acid bath, still fresh and crisp.  With a few days of soaking their texture will soften and open to the pungent flavors of vinegar and dill. A week or two on the shelf, they are juicy and ripe, ready to be harvested for snacking straight from the jar or to accompany a cookout spread. Pickles take their time to saturate and so do we. This reminder to practice presence and patience in the face of change allowed me to step into uncertainty by sharing these ideas for the first time, build trust in myself and my community, and cultivate gratitude for the hardest lessons of my first garden. 

I have experienced how powerful my brine recipe of compassion, curiosity, and creativity are in guiding me through discomfort, fear, and doubt in the same way that vinegar, water, and salt create a tasty treat out of humble ingredients. The more awareness we bring to our brine, what we are saturating in, we are better able to orient our lives towards what is uniquely meaningful to us–adventure, friendliness, cooperation, and determination to name a few. Pickles invite you to get creative with your brine and see what works for you. No two jars are alike–with different seasonings and shapes and crunch. There will be another jar, with a few tweaks in the recipe, and you will be starting again with new insights.

After a summer of reading and gardening, I ran a workshop to invite people to join me in learning from pickles. Many found vulnerability in signing up for something new, ready to saturate in learning like a cucumber into freshly seasoned brine. Others found ways to explore creativity in the pointed stars they carved their future pickle chips. Still others met a new friend or brought along a companion to witness and impact their process. I believe in the unique power of a group to facilitate what each member may offer, need, and take from gathering. Pickling gave us an opportunity to practice presence and season ourselves with awareness and intentionality. I witnessed this process aid in connection, learning, and growth–all of which are crucial aspects of self inquiry and meaning making. With every sharp, briny pickle, I am grateful for these teachings.