Writing a blog is a bit odd. I always question how much info I should really share. I end up being a little vague sometimes (and probably rightfully so) and people get to read about little events on our farm, but one thing I miss is the feeling of simply writing a letter to a friend.
I've had a few in-life friends mention my blog to me lately and I think I'll compose this entry a little differently. I have about an hour and a half to spend on lunch today at my job so we'll see how this goes.
Being real isn't always easy. There is so much bullshit in the world, the worst of which is the stuff you tell yourself. I fall in to the trap of wanting others to think certain thoughts of me or see me in certain ways and I find myself tweaking reality to make sure that they do. That's b.s. isn't it?
So for the next few minutes here I'm going to try not to worry about how this post may sound and what you may think of me. You will think what you will. I am going to tell you how things truly are and I hope you will do the same with me.
I am sometimes truly happy and joyful in my current life. When the first strawberry blushes pink and I know I weeded my heart out to get that first strawberry, I am grateful to God and say silent prayers for continued energy to put in to the farm what we need to get out of it. It's simple math really.
I am sometimes truly confounded by life. I don't know how to handle farmgirl, horticulture girl, control freak girl and the worst one: PMS girl. Whoa doggy, some days are pretty rough (ruff?). I try to make myself go out and weed, because weeding makes everything better, trust me, but I sometimes end up throwing myself a big wailing pity party and don't really want to be involved in life. At these times, I am overwhelmed with what we are trying to do but there is no room for this really. And that's the blessing. A busy life, at least for me, means I don't have time to be self-absorbed. I don't have time to examine my feelings (which honestly are often complete b.s. anyway, we are not our feelings) and I don't have time to be hurt. And the miracle of all this is the less time I give these things, the less control they have over me and gradually, by flicking away negative thoughts and manipulative feelings, I find myself resurfacing as someone who, while shackled to farm life, is in love with her prison because I've never been so free.
When the breeze blows at the farm and our wind chimes sing, a feeling of peace comes over me because we are learning this land and it is becoming a part of us just as surely as we are becoming a part of it.
So there it is, a letter to you, friends about how I am really and truly. I am good. Some days I am so good and some days I am not so good. And that's life. 'Happy' is a destination and life is a journey. I am not going to be content with arriving at the destination 'happy' or I will chase every little impulse that makes me feel good. Oh there is so much more, so much more. Freedom is letting go of destinations and simply enjoying the journey and I am, my friends, I most definitely am.