One thing to know when you decide to head to the rural “beyond” for a quieter life: the roads have potholes. Seriously. This isn’t a metaphor. There is a reason we drive slow and weave all over the road. No, we’re not desperately trying to search for a cell signal so we can call civilization (okay, sometimes we are). Mostly, we are dodging potholes.
But, if I had to turn the potholes into a metaphor for my thoughts today, it would be this: we all still experience disruptions in our “perfect” – no matter how good it is.
My niece and her husband recently bought a farm. Now, they’re not farmers; they’re true city dwellers. But, they wanted to come home and they wanted land. Hence, they bought a farm. Now, the challenge is selling their house. Supposedly, it’s no big deal. Their realtor was VERY confident. But two days have gone by without an offer. See? A pothole.
Still, I have to believe that it is merely a “slow down and swerve” moment. Not just for them, but for me because as I live my post-executive life, I continue to emphasize not worrying as an Olympic sport. Believe and proceed. That’s one of those new mottos I practice every day.
So, here’s what I’m thinking about with the newest farmers in the family: I can’t wait to share some of our traditional adventures. Today, for example, is a potential blackberry picking day. There is nothing more rural than picking wild blackberries up on the lease roads where the oil rigs are. My niece has also talked about some large blueberry bushes in front of her new house. Now, she wants to make wine; I’m thinking about blueberry muffins.
But that I will get to experience these things with my whole family is what it’s truly all about. Not this one sale or this one house, but this one lifetime.
Today also promises to be another slower weekend day, the second weekend of such slower days since Ironman and the wedding. This is what summer life out in the middle of nowhere was created for. We still have our list of approximately 45 “to do” tasks to get our house done but we can take those tasks at a much more leisurely pace. And finally, yesterday I cleaned my house. Nothing says enjoy some calm quiet like a clean house (with groceries purchased).
So, as I take a step back from the worry of the moment and survey the entire landscape, I find myself calming down and having more and more faith in the future. True, I could focus on the pothole. The one small spot on my landscape. Or, I could see the whole picture: the fields of corn that are now taller then me, the gently rolling hills in the distance, the sunshiny day with the cornflower blue skies, the quiet that Sunday morning with no traffic (and no farm equipment) tends to bring.
The potholes are there, I believe, to remind me to appreciate all that is beyond and around it. It also forces me to slow down and stay in control.
And honestly? Since I have to drive absolutely nowhere today, the potholes are just fine.
The Yuppie Homesteader 