Crop rotation: (n) the system of varying the planting of successive crops
Sometimes I’m a bit saddened when a good idea sprouts to the surface.
It’s similar to when early farmers planted crops and the bounty was so immense that they planted them over and over and over again—until all the nutrients were drained from the soil and the returns became less and less and less.
Finally, someone realized that if they planted different crops for a while, they could come back and plant the original crop again and get fruitfulness from all.
In our day, a good idea will come along—shall we say, a fresh crop—and because it worked so well or was received with joy, it’s planted over and over again, until eventually it is so common that the impact it once had is gone.
It’s a little procedure that runs like this:
- The arrival of the great idea.
- The mass production by the imitators.
- The deterioration of the idea as the cheapskates come along and debilitate it.
- The cynics who mock the copycats, making us believe there was never a good idea in the first place.
Rotate your crops.
If something great happens, don’t assume it’s going to happen again. Isn’t that why we call it great—because it doesn’t happen all the time?
In the process of rotating your crops, you won’t get tired of corn because soybeans will need to be sold.
Likewise, you won’t get tired of love because it’s so plentiful.
America is a great idea. It’s not worn out.
But it would benefit us to rotate fresh concepts into our lives—so the beautiful topsoil of freedom can have a chance to build itself back up with the nutrients that truly do enable us able to say, “Hat’s off. This is great.”