This is part of a new series of “farm meditations,” moments that have inspired me or made me think about life in a new way while working on our farm—Whippoorwill Creek Farm.
Each Saturday morning I will publish a new meditation. Perhaps they will be a nice way to start your weekend or will become a spark to think about all week. Feel free to post your comments about theme we can all learn from each other, and pass this on to a friend who might also be interested.
As always—thanks for reading. And a special shout out to the paid subscribers who make this column possible.
I did not grow up on a farm. I didn’t learn from the time I could walk—as my husband John did—how animals act or how to drive a tractor or which plants and animals to expect in each of the seasons. I have a tough time identifying trees and birds, and still think the coyotes are right next to the house when the howl at night even when they are far away.
It was my job to take over the farm duties for the day so that John could work on the new barn-house (more on that soon!). I drove the ATV out to check the goats and brought them water in heavy 5 gallon buckets. I made sure they were where they were supposed to be, checked the fences and fed a few of the kids a bottle of milk-replacer I had mixed up.
Then I checked the cattle. It was weening time, a pretty loud affair with moms on one side of the fence and their 9-month old calves on the other. I made sure everyone was where they should be, and pulled some hay out that was stuck in the bale ring.
Water - good. Gates closed - yes. Sometimes there is a cow on the wrong side of the fence and you have to dance with it up and down the line until it finds the courage to step back across the downed electric wire it just walked across when it got out.
When I am out on the farm—especially when I am there working alone—it often strikes me how everything I am doing is something I never did before I moved to Iowa. From driving the truck through fields to feeding the goat kids a bottle, testing to make sure the electric wire is hot to fixing a gap in the fence, not a single task I encounter on the farm is something I did in my former life.
Sometimes this is discouraging. I still get anxious if I see one of our animals is hurt, not knowing what is wrong and wanting to fix it. I have to remember to give myself a break when I have a hard time reeling up the electric wire (it can get heavy) and I often have too many opinions about things I really don’t know anything about.
Yet none of the tasks involved in this new life are so hard that I can’t learn to do them. It is a steep and sometimes scary curve to undertake something new. And it takes time—you have to experience a situation several times to become comfortable with it. But comfort and knowledge can come, and are the rewards of a life fully lived.
I parked the ATV in its shed and walked for a bit down the creek bed looking for mushrooms. There I found deer antlers and marveled at their amazing simplicity and intricacy, appreciating that before I lived here, I never even knew (or thought about) how deer shed their antlers. What must that be like for the deer to grow and then lose them each year? What a fascinating concept.
There is so much to learn in this life.
Antlers in hand, I got back in the truck feeling satisfied. I completed my tasks successfully and knew all was well on the farm, in part because I made it so. I felt confident and even a little accomplished, knowing that I can now do something I couldn’t do before.
So this is my Farm Meditation for this week, to think about and acknowledge the strength I gain in overcoming newness, a kind of self-reliance that is felt only by doing something that is a challenge to learn.
What are you learning to do? Where in your life can you be kind to yourself as you take on a new challenge? What newness have you overcome in your life?
Join me by sharing your experiences below.
Read “Farm Meditation #1.”
You can find more information about our farm at Iowa-farm.com. We raise grass-fed, grass-finished beef and goats for sale in Iowa.
Be sure to check out all of the amazing writers in the Iowa Writers Collaborative. We are a group of professional journalists working together to cover Iowa news and opinion in a new and different way. You can sign up for the IWC’s round-up to receive a weekly list of articles on Sunday mornings.
More stories on how you ended up in iowa on the farm please. Future meditation?
Beth I love these weekly meditations and the experiences you share from life on the farm. I have been learning how to be comfortable with being uncomfortable....for years...decades maybe. Sometimes it’s being uncomfortable with change, new learning, lack of mastery....sometimes it’s being uncomfortable with lack of control, the unknown. It’s an ongoing work in progress. What a great reminder to see how it bubbles up for you as you care for the farm and all its many critters.
Thanks for the reminder to do a self check in and see my own growth and opportunity.