Sunday, April 23, 2023

November Hill farm journal, 180

 Have I already lost control of spring farm and garden chores? It feels like it at the moment but I’m going to think of it as riding the waves of all the things growing and thriving and be content with every single thing I manage to do to help, manage, and monitor.

I’m getting better at picking a few things to work on each day and leaning in to the reality that this is what life is, not catching up, not checking off every to do list item, but paying attention and taking joy and tackling a few things that need doing as one part of a day’s journey.

Working with clients again has reminded me in a very big way of our need to listen to and often shift our own interior monologues, which is generally called self talk. I’ve done this work before with great success, but it is an ongoing process. My brain is wired to track things, and I can get into the motion of trying to keep up with doing all the things or into the space of being so overwhelmed by all the things I feel stuck doing none of them. 

Changing my brain to doing a few each day has been a good way to work with both places.

A good example - someone in my native plant group said in response to my query about the overwhelming number of Japanese honeysuckle coming up on the farm this spring: just pull some every day and that will eventually take care of it. What a relief that was to my racing brain!

So, everything is growing madly, horses are shedding, Keil Bay has been sticking a hind leg out which worries me but it comes and goes since the EPM and right now he’s doing it but is otherwise fine, we found a tick in the house this week, all the vehicles are nearing inspection time at once, and so on and so on. 

Meanwhile we are celebrating birthdays: husband’s, daughter’s, Keil Bay’s and Apache Moon’s. Daughter’s graduation is nearing. April is almost always a very full and busy month, and paired with all of nature bursting at the seams outside, it just feels fast and wild and … yes … out of control. Maybe that is how it’s supposed to feel. Maybe we need to be in that space sometimes to fully appreciate being alive.

Interestingly, this past week two things that had been off the schedule for awhile came back. We’ve been on a tighter budget the past 10 months and took a break from having farm and housekeeping help as well as massage therapy. On Monday I finally got back to the massage table and on Tuesday our farm and housekeeping helpers returned. Doing without definitely brought the feelings of gratefulness and appreciation front and center. It was so good bringing these two things back to the schedule. 

This week also brought a beloved first to the schedule for me: my grandson is coming over to spend time with me each week and this week we did gardening together. Oh, what a joy to slow down and see the tasks through a two-year old’s eyes. The satisfaction of using a real tool that works well. The joy of the water coming through the hose. The simple joy of filling a syringe with water and spraying it at grandma, aka “ga.” The closing of a big gate that takes two hands to push. The digging in to the mulch pile. The wonder of sawing an old stump and seeing ants emerge with tiny white eggs. 

It was the perfect way to end this very full week. 

2 comments:

Kathleen said...

I too feel like I've lost control of the wild this spring. So.Much.Japanese honeysuckle!!! You've inspired me, now, to start tackling it a little every day. Otherwise, I'd pretty much given up. THANK YOU!
Happy you're getting help.
Happy spring!

billie said...

It’s hard to focus on the daily doing of the small effort instead of the seeming futility of it all but when I do it, it works. I have proven this to myself over and over again with tasks on the farm that I can never get completely done, but that are more than okay if I just do a little every day or week or whatever the time frame. And yet, I still struggle with the futility thinking. A human thing, I think.