To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8(KJV)
A year ago last January (2014) I set out on an ambitious venture. Having moved back to my hometown to take seriously the offer of a 4th generation farmer to teach me how to grow things as I put together a "Farm to Table" cookbook, I decided to share my story by way of a daily blog. (To see how far off the mark I was from where I envisioned it going, I offer you the very first entry. http://karlensgarden.blogspot.com/2014/01/diary-of-first-time-farmer.html ...Boy was I naive.) Still, I undertook the self-imposed challenge for a number of reasons:
One: was a generous gesture, Thurman offering to mentor me. Within the first few weeks of the journey, I came to realize that even though it was my responsibility to DO the work itself, I would never have known how or where to start. Things like turning the ground (vs. plowing, vs. tilling) Things like reading an almanac ... planting by the signs... Things like "I wanna grow tomatoes." (Thurman) "What kind?" (Me) "What are my choices?" (same for corn; same for cucumbers; same for . . .) opened the door to an endless barrage of questions and a mountain of notes in journals that I felt other newbies might one day benefit from, so I decided to document my journey . . . Share my Thurman.
Secondly, having entered this farming world (by far, the hardest work I've ever undertaken, and yet the most rewarding), I knew it would be easy to get out of the writing habit, after all (and this was the part I did NOT think through) FARMING IS A FULL TIME JOB. Given it was writing that paid my bills, I could not afford to lose the discipline. So whether I was blogging to myself or to an audience of two, I needed to "put it out there" so to speak, to keep myself sharp. (To this day I have no clue how many people follow it. I never set up the analytics.)
At the year one mark of the daily blog thing, I decided I'd blog only as time would permit, which up until this last week has been roughly every 2 - 3 days. To keep the farm going meant bringing in help, maintaining fences, equipment, etc...To keep the critters healthy meant building barns and calling in vets and making feed runs. In short, with each new answer came a lot more questions and a lot more challenges vying for my time, my money and my energy, all of which are in need of a reboot about now.
With all my heart I feel there is a movement afoot...that others too are sensing this need to get back to basics. Everyday I talk to people who are looking to enhance their know how in the event they had to sustain themselves and their families, if for no other reason than it's just healthier that way. More and more I run across people who say "How long can this economy last?" as they question everything from government spending to natural disasters to wars that never end. All the while the farmers and gardeners I meet at auctions and Master Gardening classes are doing something about it.
I've gotten good at asking the questions; I've come to adore my local ag extension people, there with the bigger picture stuff-- How to get the well dug...Who to call for fencing...Where to turn to preserve your farm for future generations. Still and so, the fields are white and the laborers are few.
All in all this has been quite the eye-opening journey and again, the most precious chapter of my life to date...But like the scripture quoted above, To everything there is a time and season . . .and now that I've both planted and plucked, I feel my time to speak has been spoken...a time for silence is upon me.
A week ago today I traveled to the mountains of East Tennessee for a 2-day get-away (first time in 3 years...That's what farming and critters will do to a travel schedule!) I attended the wedding of a dear friend and stayed in a rustic little cabin with nothing but journals and notebooks, the way I foresaw this journey playing out 17 months ago. As I sat in the silence, hearing my own voice like a long lost friend, it occurred to me, now is that time.
With each new thing to learn, came new responsibilities...With each new responsibility, came more commitments. In short, my time--this precious commodity and the only thing we can really call our own, is needed elsewhere.
As best I can I have tried to show both the ups and the downs of my little farm life. Yes the goats are adorable and yes, I'll fall to mush next week when Rosebud has her puppies, but there've been painful parts too, and this past year in particular left me facing more than I was ready for...
It was a tough hit for me emotionally to lose my business partner, mentor and friend of 20+ years. (Teddy Bart passed away last December). A few months later I lost not one, not two, but three of the most precious ladies to ever walk the planet to cancer. Over the summer I had to say goodbye to Minsky, my best bud and co-pilot pup for the last 15 1/2 years...Two weeks ago little April goat died in my arms. And earlier this week I'm sad to report I lost one of my 3 (not-so-feral) kittens.
Today...with the seasons changing outside my door, there is a change in me as well...a change I cannot anticipate with logic and planning...one that am not totally clear on myself, but one I can only walk through as a day by day proposition. Where once I felt a desire to speak, today my heart craves silence... and in order to be fully present for the chapter that lies ahead, I take this leave of absence.
In order to be present...to be fully in the moment as I care for those most precious to me, I am alleviating what things I can....for what period, I cannot say...The writing will continue, I simply must release myself from the obligation of a time table.
The biggest challenge of my life today (and I hear this from every friend I talk to, so I don't think I'm unique) is how to get it all done and still be present for the things that matter most. We are wired to our computers, addicted to texting, and we're drunk on social media. On the one hand one, it's not all bad...I adore being able to check to see what friends are up to or to laugh at someone else's silly goats. On the other hand, time on social media is costing us...It packs a powerful punch. When we spend more time online than we do caring for the people we cherish most in our lives, well, perhaps it's time for a change.
Last night I called Thurman. His mother died yesterday. What weekend plans I thought important just went out the window, after all, what good is all this blogging if I can't be present and of comfort for someone who has given so much to my life
Three days ago I heard from the daughter of a most precious friend -- Stage IV Pancreatic Cancer --he was given 4 weeks to live 4 weeks ago...I can't think of anything more important than the conversation we'll be having today...
And as my own precious mother--the woman who gave me life-- faces procedures, tests and surgeries, dealing in excruciating pain along the way ...it is not my duty, but my honor to be there by her side...We'll leave no stone unturned as we walk through this valley.
So fair warning to those whose texts may go unanswered...whose IM messages I don't always see...Short of the necessary work before me, my focus and my heart lie here...Outwardly caring for those who have cared for me...Inwardly caring and preparing myself for what lies ahead. Please don't take it personally if I don't get back to you right away. Once through it, I'm sure I'll bounce back, but for now, a season of silence is upon me...How long I am there, only time will tell. May be weeks...Maybe a month.
I am grateful to you all for the prayers, the love and the support...and for having allowed me to share my story here with you...I'm not saying goodbye...only that it's time for a sabbatical. I am in need of a Sabbath. (In truth, I think the whole planet could use a Sabbath.)
Here's holding it in prayer.
