Tomato, Tomate
Outpacing their current grow space, my tomatoes await warmer weather. Over the course of the coming weeks, I’ll take the fifty tomato plants, along with their pepper compatriots, and set them outside.
But, I can only do this a little at a time. Day by day, I can increase their time outdoors, acclimating them to their new environment. A few hours per day, then a little more the next day and the day after that. I have to keep them out of direct sunlight and without exposure to extremes in temperature.
Plants grown indoors, under artificial light, with the false winds of a gentle fan, aren’t strong enough for the true forces of nature. They must build a tolerance to elements harsher than a basement shelving unit. They must be prepared for a life of unexpected things outside the gentle protection of the nursery.
When they’re ready, and the summer heats up, they happily take over my garden, at home in the sun and the storms. Early acclimation to adversity paying dividends in pound after beautiful pound of heirloom tomatoes.
As I prepare for the glorious warmer weather, I realize that I too am in an acclimation phase. A new and budding time. A period of beginnings. And as I nurture a growing list of new endeavors, I know I’ll eventually have to put them out there into the wilds of the internet or real life and see how they hold up.
One such endeavor is gaining conversational fluency in Spanish.
I was never a fluent speaker, but I could understand so much, recalling a large vocabulary. During parts of my career, I worked in bilingual practices, and had clinically specific language skills. I kick myself for not diving headfirst into learning at that time, when I was newly divorced, childfree and had all the time in the world.
These days, with more free time and endless free language resources, I decided I no longer had an excuse. I picked up Madrigal’s Magic Key to Spanish as a study guide, began listening to Spanish stories on YouTube, and truly studying in earnest.
So much information was familiar, and I was able to move easily through my book and through listening exercises. But, when I found myself in a speaking situation, I would go blank, futilely searching for simple phrases I knew. For whatever reason, I wasn’t fully acclimated to speaking Spanish in the real world.
This was frustrating. Then, I came across a video about this exact problem. The Spanish instructor said that this happens frequently with students. They are inundated with Spanish inputs. They do the book work. They listen to stories, podcasts, and movies in Spanish. They memorize vocabulary and grammar.
But, they have difficulty speaking because they are unaccustomed to creating output. They can understand, but can’t reply because they aren’t used to replying. So, while all of the inputs are great, students have to create opportunities for output.
I dove into some personal accounts of rapid language acquisition, and this seemed to be accurate for the most prolific of polyglots. Inputs were acquired until there was a critical mass of language (a smaller number of words than you might expect), then the strategy changed. People who were most successful began to use the language as often as possible, even challenging themselves to think in the new language during normal internal dialogue. They found native speakers to talk to, who could help kindly correct mistakes and add to the vocabulary they already knew.
Practice was every day, little by little. Reviewing, repeating, correcting, and acquiring.
In one case, a person was able to pass a citizenship language test after only six months of study. The balance of inputs and outputs, of growth and challenge was what undergirded rapid success.
I’m not in a particular rush to learn Spanish. But being able to communicate in a new way is an exciting challenge. Travel becomes easier. Barriers to forming friendships could disappear. New worlds and perspectives might open.
Just like the tiny tomato plants, I have to build a steady profile of new internal components and be ready to put them to the test. In order to get out of the nursery, I have to ready myself for the challenges of what’s outside.
In early retirement, there are many things like this. Particularly when you leave something behind that doesn’t fit. The world opens up, and suddenly, there’s nothing but opportunities to do new and wonderful things. Each new opportunity presenting the challenge of growth. A chance to find a new strength.
In humans, at least for myself, the nursery, the safe and easy space, is the one of easy inputs. In our connected and content-filled world it could be so easy to stay in the comfort of this place. Finding the courage and the opportunity for outputs is far more difficult.
Fear kicks in, acting as resistance. Imposter syndrome, fear of being embarrassed, fear of getting it wrong. The resistance can keep us stuck in the nursery, still tender until we decide to move into the elements.
As the year moves on, I’m hoping to strengthen my outputs in several areas. Writing is definitely one, as is learning languages. Watching the tomato vines take over, I’ll be reminded of my own commitment to produce something wonderful during this cycle of the sun.
