Of Gypsies and Cowboys

What is it about this life that brings such a sense of both satisfaction and desire? Why am I pleased when I consider the pile of wood my husband carried in, or the simple undyed playdough I made for my son? Why do I find Jem’s little woollen slippers more attractive upon his feet than branded sneakers, or those same feet bare on the grass instead of upon concrete, or those toes grimey with the dirt of exploration instead of...well, you get the picture.


I feel the need to ask myself these things. For some reason I am intensely drawn to the idea of growing food, creating clothing, eating ...differently, and living with less than I am comfortable. But why? Why is this attractive to me? Why does my stomach get all churny and funny when I read about housing hens or knitting little-boy-sweaters or creating something beautiful out of nothing? In so many ways it just doesn’t make sense. I mean, I grew up in an age and culture where the end goal of education and development was (seemingly) to acquire a career which would generate a steady and increasing income and allow me the comforts I desired. Even now, my parents yearn for more materials, less inconvenience, more comfort. Lettered names, square footage, branded clothes; these all remain incredibly attractive to people everywhere, and in some ways I could see how I could be drawn back into those cravings. Yet, this other life causes a greater hunger and a greater hope of happiness.

I keep picturing us finally moving into our little cabin. I see J reading by the fire, Jem with a small crate of toys, and me, just living; breathing without panic, content and at peace. I see glass jars with lentils and beans and grain, fresh bread and eggs, wooden toys, linen skirts, woollen sweaters. I sense the absence of fear; fear of conflict, fear of loss, fear of not getting that thing or the other, or losing it all. I see our family with a sense of wholeness and health, willing to live with what we are given and without a lust for more. I do not want to return to asphalt and malls and traffic. I don’t trust myself, yet, to act rightly within reach of all those things I once craved and clung to as I recognize that I am so easily distracted and convinced.

I am drawn to this other life. I am drawn to the hope of health and beauty and harmony. I am drawn to that picture of a life in which I can learn to seek what is good. I want it to be real. I want it to be true.

Dum spiro espero. While I breathe I hope.

 

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This week I stepped away for a short visit with a friend a couple hours away from the ranch. As I drove, I listened to some recorded lectures, chatted with my baby, and gained confidence in my driving with the big new truck and the icy roads. During my visit I witnessed my sweet friend discipline her child, care for her home, and go about her daily routine. We chatted and shared bits on life and marriage and issues and new things, we walked and napped, we watched our kids play. On the drive home last night I became aware of an important responsibility in our lives, or at least in my life: It is good to step away. It is beneficial to step out of your 'zone' for enough time to witness points of contrast and possibility.
Though my visit was brief, I was challenged and encouraged to reconsider some approaches to parenting, to reflect on my marriage, and to think about myself for a moment. From the outside, I was able to recognize points of wrongdoing and areas in need of change; things that are often much more difficult to take stock of when you are in the midst of it.

So then. As mothers, business people, land-keepers, students, etc., how we can ensure these excursions? How may we encourage each other in these things; both to our friends and our spouses? Hmm. I think J' needs his own time out soon....

Anyways.
We awoke to a big dump of snow. Jem wasn't a huge fan of it (which I didn't help by flipping his sled and landing him on his face!!!). The horses are really frisky and even Shasta (our baby girl) tried kicking her heels at me! I went down to the lake to try to get some trout when Jem went down for his nap, but no luck yet :(  Now i'm entering 'afternoon chore mode' while J works at the cabin. Oh to be in our new home.... Oh to be patient.

Happy Thursday. May you find an ear to hear your heart today.

All this is to say that for I am growing impatient and eager and…desperate (!) for a return to my own house, my own stretch-out-in-it living space. I can hardly wait. I can HARDLY wait!!! The couple we work for is building a killer caretaker’s cabin. It’s gorgeous. It’s small and perfect and detailed with thought and design. We are going to create a home within it and it will be wonderful.

However…. My sense of impatience needs to be yet another “breathe in…breathe out” moment in this journey. The cabin is going to be finished someday. It’s coming. Whether we spend this Christmas in it or not, or whether we have to keep waiting: we know that as long as we continue good work here we will move into that special dwelling place, we will settle in and have coffee on the veranda and read books by the fire. I planted bulbs in the rocky area in front of it this morning in hope of seeing them bloom from my own windows there in the spring. Plant and wait.
For the moment, we are living in the main house; a huge log cabin with gorgeous furnishings. Our room is fantastic and we are exceedingly blessed. We have access to so much more than we deserve and we spend each evening in a place beyond what we could ever afford. So, I embrace the wait and skip down the stretching road and look ahead with hope and expectation, and patience.
(and, if you can tell, I am so tired and will now, with hope, skip to my bed…)

The day was filled with work outside in the gorgeous air....

There's a couldron of chickpea curry simmering on the woodstove as pastry for the newest crop of apples chills in the fridge. Jem is chasing a pair of chipmunks by the bird feeder out front while J continues work up at the barn. My apron is floured and I'm wearing awkwardly thick socks stuffed into garishly turqoise crocks. The air has warmed to a 'normal' fall temperature and two doors are open to accomodate baby and dog as they move in and out between adventures.

I'm tired and well.

I think there must be several stages to finding home and digging in roots, and I think it may be a deeper and more involved process than we may first expect. While we can have points of relief or happiness, I think there are more intricate layers of trust and ownership and participation which have to be experienced before one moves towards an honest and lasting rootedness which brings a mixture of joy and solidarity, even in the face of change or question.
Anyways. I don't know, I'm just starting to feel or see something on the horizon that is good. We've had so many changes, so many places of dwelling, so many valuable experiences and pit stops. I'm hoping this is all of those, but so much more.

I feel so inspired today!
I'm not sure what has brought about the change, but I could feel it stirring and I can finally see it in points of attitude and action. I am filling with a growing desire to contribute more and dig in and let go and...welll, go all in. I think that anyone who has experienced or witnessed ups and downs and changes quite near each other will develop a hesitancy to fully invest or fully let go of all plan B's. It's just what happens, no matter how much we say we don't or won't or, whatever. But today I found myself in this small-town outdoor apparell store charging up all kinds of tough ranch-specific outdoor clothes (courtesy of my ridiculously generous employer), skipping through manure sporting my new canvas Carhartt vest, learning to use J's drill so I could help with the winterizing of the barn, and planning out an evening of apple pie creation. It's different. For today, it doesn't feel like work so much as contribution to community. And that my friends is why we are here on this mountain in this very foreign life.

I love the teeny glimpses of light through fog and hope upon plateaus.

I smell like barn.... I should go!

Four fires burning. Baby finally sleeping. Eggs and hashbrowns for a late supper. Frost descending. Sleepy eyes and cozy thoughts. Night time comes to the ranch.

(Note: Jeremiah broke in and posted this with his own additions when I had to leave the computer this afternoon-- wow! Sometimes I write and process on here and then go back and edit it and rethink things before I post. Thanks for joining the conversation friends!)

Hello.
J and I just came in from a beautiful trail ride through a new section of forest on the ranch. The colors and brisk air and break from the pace of the weekend were appreciated. It's funny, while I can post pictures or explain bits of days or experiences, it's actually quite difficult to truly explain the kind of life we have out here. It's beautiful and wierd and so full of blessing and wonder, but you all know that already. What you don't know is that the rhytm of balance and growth continues to be difficult to attain. The 'fear of man' continues to be present through new experiences and expressions. The pressure to gain affirmation through overwork is a constant presence.
There have been a precious few days of quiet family time and working in our own rythm and creative energy. There are many days of people and eyes and opinions as we try to be everything our employers expect us to be. There are days when we fail and talk and apply new lessons and continue to attemp service and work and learn from our mistakes. There are days when we get caught in that dangerous swirl of trying to please every present eye and voice and criticism and then find ourselves slipping away on a trail ride to breathe and let it all go.
As I've written before; wherever we are present, it is possible to walk in turmoil, stress, joy, rest, growth, frustration, and change. My hope is that we will learn how to serve these lords and ladies with gladness while cultivating rest and guarding our hearts against all those draining forces that pushed us onto our gypsy path in the beginning. But friends, it is much more difficult to really live this each day than it is to think of it as an ideal and concept.

So then, how do you do it? Or do you?

Our response so far has been to work beyond our positions, adding on hours within each of our days. We do what is required and more, and we keep senses open as to be aware of unspoken requests and preferences. So far, the appearance and productivity of overwork is well received, but it leads to points of strain as well as confusion when we actually do stop. Hmm.

Anyways. I recognize this is a tricky conversation, especially on open domain. The fact is though; I hope to be as open and inquisitive as I can on this quest. This blog is for the questions and discoveries and ins and outs of 'less loaded', and the questions of the day are loaded indeed.

Happy Monday to you. May you find rest.

Happy Thanksgiving Weekend!!!
This weekend finds us in deepening thoghts of thankfulness as we continue on our journey in action and 'the seen', as well as in processing and connecting all these points of life. This time last year we were celebrating with family in Alberta, convinced that we'd finally settled in for the long haul in our little town. Now, after a year of motion and change and, we are again in that mindset of, "here we are, this is it, we're not moving for at least a decade!". I pray that this time next year we will be reflecting with thankfulness on a year of roots and home and growth. Here.

So now. Sitting by the woodstove in our room. It is COLD up here! (about -10 celcius). The water trough is frozen and the dilema of the weekend is how to get water to our 5 horses. The lake is foggy and grey. My toes are numb, my nose is wet, and Jem's cheeks are rosy rosy red. It feels like Christmas :) It's funny, one of the (many) factors in moving West instead of other locations was the lure of mild and moist winters in the Valley. Hahaha. Now we're 4000 feet higher in a dry and soon to be bone-chilling cold. Interesting how things work.....

In other news....
Our little cabin continues to be developed. The tin was started this week and now the roof is halfway completed. There is still much to be done, but we keep walking up there and looking ahead with growing excitement. This might really happen! Well actually, this IS really happening! We're going to have a sweet little home to cozy up in by Christmas and I can hardly wait. Logs hewn from this land and fires burning as we cozy up with babies and dreams.

Well, time to go. This was a little scattered but I'm determined to update more, here and there. Again, happy weekend, give thanks!