week 22: when it all falls into place
this week on the little dream farm
There were a few weeks there where it was feeling a little dicey.
Perhaps we had too much on our schedule.
Maybe we’d taken on too much.
I guess I could have saved some projects for another time.
Oh and why did I want to grow all these flowers?
But it’s been a few weeks now and the bulk of the work…at least the hard stuff…is now behind us.
The past two weekends Chris and I got off the farm for some much needed time together and some time away from the farm, not wrapped up in chores or projects or things we wanted or needed to get done.
Even better, some time away for date days, a little adventure, exploring new places, and a refresh was a good recharge for our batteries and also a source of inspiration and connecting us to why we’re doing the things we’re doing in the first place—because we genuinely love it.
So, now that we’ve checked a bunch of big things off our list at the beginning of the growing season, here’s a few initial So, what did we learn? type observations that we talked about yesterday while we were hiking around the gorgeous Green Lakes State Park before visiting Syracuse, NY for the day:
Just because it’s unfamiliar and difficult doesn’t mean it’s bad
Our brain and body is hardwired to protect us at the slightest inclination of danger. It’s a really useful thing when there’s actual danger, but often our brain doesn’t decipher from something to fear for real and the kind of fear we can create in our minds from the resistance we feel when we dive into new things. So, just because we’ve taken on lots of new and difficult things and the work has been hard doesn’t mean it’s bad. In fact, with the right attitude, doing the unfamiliar and the difficult stuff comes with great reward of taking on something new.
We’re built to handle a lot more than we sometimes give ourselves credit for
We really can juggle a whole lot and we’re totally capable of pushing ourselves past our comfort zone. Sure, it takes greater focus, keener prioritization, less down time, and maybe a little extra coffee for us to balance full time work (our jobs), a business (my coaching), 19 animals (so far!), a farm, travel schedules, quality time together, and time for health, self-care, and rest. But in this busy season we’ve noticed the very direct correlation of how we get done what we plan for and prioritize, and that the better the plan, the less friction we feel with what gets done and in what order.
Don’t freak out and don’t beat yourself up over perceived mistakes
That’s direct advice from Chris to me…and I love it. I’m definitely an over-thinker and I can too easily get myself tripped up on little stuff that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Specifically with the Cut Flower Patch, there were all kinds of silly little things that didn’t go the way I’d envisioned or maybe wanted—the patch was tilled bigger than what we’d planned for; the drip irrigation wasn’t laid as seamlessly as I would have liked it; the landscape fabric wasn’t installed as tidy as I would have wanted it—it’s ultimately small, cosmetic type stuff that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of why I wanted to start the Cut Flower Patch in the first place: to learn to grow flowers from seed at scale and then enjoy their beauty. Along the way, every time something small would go “wrong” or not the way I’d envisioned, I really tried going back to that original intent so that I didn’t stray off course getting caught up in the small, unimportant stuff.
The learning curve is where all the really good stuff happens
Do you remember when we were kids and we loved learning new stuff and we had so little judgement about how good we were at learning it or how fast we learned or how quickly we became proficient in whatever we were learning? As kids, we were sponges—ever curious and excited just to learn something new. As adults, we have all kinds of perceptions about how fast we should be able to learn something, how quickly we’re able to master it, and we want the quickest way not to be a “newbie” at whatever that new thing is. But the beginning is the richest part. Just as I was starting all the flower seeds in the seed room, Chris said to me, “Don’t take this time for granted. You’re never going to be brand new to learning how to do this ever again. Just enjoy what you’re learning and how you’re learning it.” That was such good, wise advice. The learning curve is where all the richness happens. I’ve made a promise to myself to be more childlike in my approach to all the new things we’re constantly learning on the farm—approaching everything with wonder, curiosity, and excitement to learn.
The planning is more daunting than the doing
The entire reason for this particular Farm Note, and the whole reason we had this conversation this morning about the lessons is because I asked Chris while we were hiking, “Looking back on the last few weeks, does it feel as hard as it seemed at the outset?” We both agreed it absolutely didn’t, and that the reason things feel so daunting at the start is because of the newness and because you’re standing at Point A but you’re thinking about Point Z and you’re mind is freaking out about how hard the road ahead will be to get from A to Z. I’m not saying anything new or novel here…in any of these points, really, but just merely reminding ourselves—myself—and maybe even you, too, that the forward motion…the action…the doing of the thing…helps overcome all the mental gymnastics about the destination. Looking back, none of it was as hard as it maybe felt in the moment a few weeks ago, and now next year we’ve got another handful of things under our belt that we’ve already done—that won’t be new—and next year won’t feel nearly as daunting. The antidote to that daunting feeling is action…it beats worry, overthinking, and over-planning all day long.
I wanted to capture some of these things now in the early part of the season so we don’t forget what we’ve learned and how far we’ve come along the way. Sure, it maybe felt like a lot for a little while there, but then it all just sort of fell into place, as it always tends to do in life, and now we’re just riding the wave.
Of course there’s lots more work to be done—the management and the upkeep is just as important as getting things up and running, but we’re over that hump now and with some intentional ongoing care we’ve earned ourselves the time to sit back, relax a little, and enjoy the fruits of our labor, whether that’s plopping our butts down on the patio to enjoy the view and the peace and quiet or hopping in the car to zoom off to exploring somewhere new in this amazing place we’ve chosen to call home.
The beginning of the growing season is such a sweet time. There’s so much anticipation involved. There’s lots of effort at the outset. There’s pure hope and potential in the season ahead. Everything is small and neat and tidy and contained, and it almost doesn’t seem possible that plants could grow as big as they do or that the harvest could be as big as it is or that everything will be as beautiful and lush as it gets.
So this week I’ll leave you with some beginning of the season photos of the Big Garden, the Cut Flower Patch, the Patio Planters and Window Boxes, so you can take note of the way it looks now…in the beginning…and so we can hopefully all celebrate together in what it becomes when it all falls into place…when it’s all in full bloom.
Sarah, you and Chris have done an amazing job. But why did you want to plant all those flowers? Will you have a plant stand to sell them? Happy to see you and Chris having some fun after all your hard work. 😍
I look forward to your farm note every week. It's nice to see all the animals and the gardens thriving.
I became a great grandmother a couple of weeks ago so another family member is here for me to love. He came early, but he is home and thriving!