Lessons Learned From Cranberry Picking

Lessons learned from Cranberry Picking

Cranberry-picking season is my absolutely favourite time of year, berry picking is my favourite summer and fall activity. I was lucky to be able to make time to go out picking multiple times this season. While I’m always a little sad when the season ends, this year I’ve found myself reflecting on the lessons I’ve learned from cranberry picking, and the ways that it has influenced my life.

We can’t rush readiness:

Every year I go out to check on the cranberries before they’re ready. I logically know they won’t be, but I go anyways - as if I can will them to ripen just because I’m ready. It’s never worked out that way for me, but I’ll probably do the same thing again next year.  And honestly, I’m okay with that, it reminds me of something important each year: readiness cannot be rushed.

While cranberry picking and going to therapy are different things, readiness matters in some similar ways.  We cannot effectively work through things in therapy if there isn’t readiness - readiness to engage, to sit with discomfort, to let go of familiar patterns, and to step into the unknown of the journey to find new ways of being in the world. 

And, no matter how much we may want healing for someone else, we cannot force their readiness either (and what we want for someone may not be what they want for themselves).

Slowing Down:

I’ll start this section by admitting that I’m not always good at slowing down, and I have minimal training in meditation and mindfulness - but I wholeheartedly believe that berry picking is a mindful activity.  

When I’m out there, my awareness feels heightened: the texture of the ground beneath me, the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves, my dog chomping on a stick beside me.  It’s as though everything except the present moment fades.  There are very few things in life that I’ve personally found to be as regulating and peaceful as cranberry picking.

Most of the time when I’m berry picking, it’s just me and my dog, Breton, but sometimes my partner or a friend joins, and that’s special in a different way.  It’s deeply regulating for our nervous systems to be joined in a common purpose with others -and combined with a deliberately slow activity that takes place in nature? Chef’s kiss for co-regulation. That shared experience helps to creates safety and connection. The sharing, laughter, vulnerability, and even the moments in silence together that arise in that shared space is truly beautiful.

Why is slowing down so important? Trauma responses are FAST. They have to be, they’re meant to protect us. It wouldn’t do us a lot of good if it took several minutes to get to a fight or flight reaction when we needed it. So while we want those responses to be fast when necessary, traumatic experiences often cause fast  responses when they aren’t  necessary.  Part of how we help our nervous system settle, and relearn safety, is by slowing down. Taking a breath before speaking, or acting can be revolutionary, because it slows us down, gives our cognitive brain time to catch up, and respond rather than just react.

We All Change:

Do you ever find yourself in a moment that reminds you of how far you’ve come, or how much you’ve changed over time?  For me, that moment happens the first cranberry pick of each season.  

The person that I am today is absolutely not the same person I was a decade ago, and that’s something I am proud of. Not because I don’t love the past versions of myself, but because 2015 Evelyn did not spend a lot of time outside, let alone berry pick, and I’m proud that willingness to try new things resulted in new passions.  Crawling around in the bush, pulling twigs out of my hair, it never fails to remind me that we all still have capacity for change, to keep learning, and growing.  It's a reminder that we can work to change in whatever ways we want to, and that we are never a finished product. Something about that always fills me with hope.

While cranberry picking has gifted me so many lessons, I know that it’s not something everyone wants to do, or has capacity to do. So instead of encouraging you to go out and try something I love, I’ll encourage you to try something new. You never know where it might take you. Even if it turns out to not be something you want to do again, I’d guess that you still learn something about yourself.