Working Winters | Part II
Part I of Working Winters Essay
One thing I do a lot of during the end-of-the-season ‘Not Farming’ phase is sitting by a wood fire. No phone, no internet, no computer, no book, just me, possibly a cat, dog, and Brad. Sometimes there is conversation, sometimes just the crisp, snapping song of the fire. Part meditation, part restoration, this is a supremely comforting act that sets my mind at rest. Until, of course, I start thinking about all those projects waiting for me.
The truth is, I’m really not the best at doing nothing. I crave that sense of accomplishment and the satisfaction I get from seeing my efforts literally providing nourishment for my community. I’m constantly wanting to tinker with our system, and improve our processes and offerings. Which isn’t a bad thing, unless as my uncle is fond of saying, you take excess to excess. Plus, I am made for motion! If I can knock out a morning project of fixing gutters, cleaning out the coops or stacking firewood, I’m much more inclined to truly enjoy an afternoon of leisure.
If I get restless throughout the course of my ‘Not Farming’ phase, I try to dig into that restlessness and get curious about the what and why. What’s behind it? What action will sate the longing? And better yet, how can I become a truer version of myself? Not one that requires constant stimulation, or checking off a task list to feel validated, but simply being me? What does that look like? Who am I this year, and who do I aspire to become? What gifts am I uniquely positioned to share with my community? How can I structure my work so that my actions support my best intentions?
These types of questions are the heart and soul of what rest, of what ‘Not Farming’ looks like for me. Temporarily 'Not Farming' is beyond valuable. It’s absolutely essential to my success and to my ability to weather the weariness, the worries and loss that inevitably are part of every year.
What does an annual commitment to ‘Not Farming’ look like for you? Probably much different than for a farmer. It could happen at the end of the school year or after a big project is officially off your plate. It might even require taking off those clean clothes and getting grubby. Whatever will free you from your current rote schedule, not forever, but just long enough to see your life and your work with fresh eyes, renewed spirits and yes, of course Joy(!)... that’s your version of ‘Not Farming.’
We often joke that in agriculture, your work is never done. While I'd be the first to agree that is definitely true, I’ve also learned that times of repose are quite central to farm life. The four, distinctly different seasons are pretty crucial to making the whole system work. Without a winter, summer wouldn't be the same. So here’s to the coming season of wool caps and hot soup, a clean set of clothes and crackling fires.
After working really hard, it will be a pleasure—just for a bit-- to hardly work.~AJ
“When you pay attention to boredom it gets unbelievably interesting.”