It’s interesting how motivation works.
I restarted this blog for two reasons.
- I completely left social media (okay, not completely, I am still active on LinkedIn, but it’s because it’s critical for work) and I wanted a place where I could still share widely.
- I hoped restarting this blog would inspire me to spend more time down at the land.
Looking at my last few posts, only a scant few are about the land itself. The rest are trips, musings, and recipes. And yet, I’ve already gone down to the land more times than I can count this year. Last year, the year our sweet dog Birch got sick and ultimately said goodbye to us, I went down three times total. I think.
What you pay attention to grows.
Since my dad’s stroke, I’ve been struggling to rekindle my inner fire. I’ve been incredibly busy with work, community, and life. The busy-ness allowed me to ignore the tiny voice within me trying to scream, “What is your purpose? What are you even doing right now?“
A byproduct of my depression is what I call ‘going through the motions.’ I complete what is in front of me. I go to events. I spend time with friends and loved ones. I do my work. But it can sometimes feel hollow, with only a few sparks of real joy and clarity. It has nothing to do with how wonderful my community is or how much I like my work. It has everything to do with depression.
On top of these emotionless motions, I was injured twice in a row. First, I dislocated my shoulder doing something really cool in a frisbee match. Then I got a concussion. Movement and exercise are a key component of my mental health self-care routine. For over a month, I wasn’t at full strength. This, on top of emotionally recovering from a rather traumatic event of my dad’s stroke and really confronting the reality of life, I was… lost.
I shared this with my therapist, wondering aloud if maybe all I needed to do was go volunteer somewhere. Get behind a cause. Do something that filled me with a sense of purpose. I was purposeless. Aimless.
He was quiet for a second, then gently said, “If you would volunteer ten hours to an organization, why not volunteer ten hours a week to the land? You love it down there. It always brings you joy. And you keep saying you want more time there.”
Of course!
Therapy for the win!
That was the framework I needed to help me feel a bit more in control of my life, which had felt more like a ball spinning out of control than wholly mine.
So I sat down and started organizing my weeks. What day could I regularly take a half-day to get down to the land to work? How might I reorganize my approach to weekends to prioritize the woods?
It’s only been a week of this new framework, but it’s already helping me feel more myself. Less ‘going through the motions,’ more fully present in all aspects of my life.
To close this one out, here’s an update on what’s happening down at the farm!
My new neighbor friend, M, likes grueling, horrifically exhausting manual labor as much as I do, so he came down with me to help work on clearing the border. I handed M a machete while I donned my trailblazing gear. Then I sent him ahead to search out the next survey flag as I cut a path toward him.
We had a blast. He discovered a love of machetes. Which, I mean, I can’t blame him. They are very fun tools, especially when they are as sharp as I keep mine.
That means a good quarter? Third?!? Of the border has been cleared. This project is MASSIVE and it’s going to take me all season.
On a separate day, I went down to do the second mow of the year. As I was packing up to leave, E encouraged me to grab a towel for a swim in the pond afterward. It wasn’t very hot out, so I was doubtful I’d jump in. I’m so grateful for that towel because, friends, the first swim happened.
The water was perfectly cold and instantly cooled off my very sweaty body after a rough mowing session.
Summer is officially here!
And I’m paying attention.
What you pay attention to grows.
Now At A Farm 