The Wind – or the farmer and his healing potions

Last weekend I had a city-break and ventured to Belgium, where I was hosted at a stunning little castle near the city of Ghent. It was a two full days in the countryside, listening to the birds, contemplating nature, and strolling around the property. That trip reminded me of the tale of the farmer – The Wind.

Once upon a time there was a farmer living in a castle. He was no duke, in fact he had absolutely no noble title before his name, but he lived within the property of one. The duke liked having such a hard-working man around, one he could trust to help protecting his domain, together with the concierge. The farmer didn’t come from afar but none knew much about him, except for he was named after the wind. The Wind – just like a native of some long lost tribe – the last man of his own people, one bound to a special mission.

The Wind grew vegetables. In fact, he didn’t exactly grew vegetables: for the most part he simply grew grass, and every now and then he would head off to a market in the surroundings of the castle, to offer the community the benefits of his harvests. He would mount a wooden stall and then proceed to make little potions out of his herbs, which were said to have magical properties. The name and abilities of this man spread out as fast as the wind ( what else?), and soon people were coming from virtually everywhere to experiment the healing  beverages he prepared.

Despite all the friends he seemed to have, and of how warm-hearted and outgoing he was, The Wind could behave like a solitary wolf. At times he would just head from the castle to the field, from the field to the castle, limiting social contact to the minimum necessary, for days or weeks in a row. He would listen to music, he would play his ukulele, he would meditate, he would read and write, he would drink wine. Then he would set off to one of his trips to the mountains, and stay there for a while, experiencing all sorts of adventures in nature, and interactions with animals, people, or spirits.

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Once he had had enough, he would come back to the castle, totally appeased, bursting ideas, usually carrying newly found herbs. Or you could just say he came back wiser. The duke was always relieved when he saw the farmer’s smile in the distance, retreating from one of his long journeys: his beard long and golden, his eyes bright as stars, his steps determined yet calm, across the fields. Watching the farmer in this fashion made the duke feel the property was safe, and everything was back in its place. The comeback of The Wind was always great news to the population as well. They knew he would be more eloquent and vital than ever before, and his energy would propagate like a stream or current, never turbulent, but a rather delicate one. Like the wind ( what else?).

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People came to him for all sorts of reasons. Some wanted more energy or a better appearance, others looked for alleviating a certain ailment, and there were a few who searched for a purpose. And these were the ones The Wind – the farmer – liked helping the most. In those cases he would not only prescribe a specific potion, but he would offer his attention as well. He would listen, sometimes engage in long talks. When the case was serious it could be that the farmer decided to take the designated person for a long walk in the forest, or engage with her in some other activities of which details should not be unveiled. The farmer wasn’t especially fond of giving advice, though. He strongly believed people’s capacities of soul-searching and taking their own risks, of doing the best thing they could do, given their own circumstances. So he didn’t give them incentive to follow, but to create. If anything, he wished to awaken the ones who reached out to him, to push them to life’s side.

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This story is fictional. Nonetheless, should you be in need of more vitality, more sense of connection, or just some extremely powerful herbs to uplift you, there is someone who resembles the farmer in this story. He’s name is Tom De Windt, and he is De Tarwegrasboer. He lives in Belgium, where he grows his wheatgrass ( amongst other super herbs), and he is one bound to a special mission of connecting people to mother earth by means of green juices ( and kind words). He goes around carrying his harvests on his juice-bar-on-wheels, spreading positive vibes and inspiration. Like a breeze of fresh wind ( what else?). He occasionally travels the world – currently as a tour leader too. And you can reach out to him, of course: tom@tarwegrasboer.be


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