June 15, 2010 – Healing the Wounds
Little I knew, eighteen months ago, when I moved back to the family farm that a healing process would take place.
“Caring for aging parents is not an obligation, but a privilege” – so said, my sewing instructor. I took her words into my heart and don’t regret the choice I made even though the future seems out of my control than ever.
I moved back to where I had left 28 years earlier. I had to face the little town I once despised, not as a winner but as a loser. I was coming back broke with a school-age child to raise. The worse scenario than this would be if I were a never-married single mom.
I pretend that I take care of my parents, but I am actually taken care of by them. I came back to a safe nest, where I clearly know where I stand and who I am. I know what is expected of me and try diligently to achieve that. Fulfilling the obligations no longer makes me feel oppressed but secure. I have a clean conscience and certain that I am doing the right thing. Not really as an obligation, but as a privilege that was given to me. I am sorry for my siblings that don’t participate in this process the same way the divorced father may not watch his daughter growing up millimeters a day.
My uncle’s wife got surprised in not finding me depressed; my neighbor asked me if I am always upbeat, without bad days; the bank worker called me Pollyanna. I really don’t see any reason to be unhappy. I am indeed happy.
I grow my own vegetables; I make my own soap; I cook every day; I eat wood-fired oven baked bread; I buy raw milk; I learned to love our five dogs, three cats, two rabbits, compost worms, kefir mushrooms. I get to ride a bicycle every afternoon with my daughter. I am teaching her to be self-sufficient and resourceful, even though I have to deal with the huge mess she leaves behind. I tell her that she is the most fortunate girl in the whole wide world. We have a large home, a thousand books, tools, materials, space, land, and nature. Parakeets and woodpeckers are part of our everyday life.
It doesn’t matter how busy I am. I can never catch up with my house chores or gardening. There are always many more things to be done than what I got accomplished in a given day. But I am always willing to take care of more living beings. I want a new kitty, a puppy, a goat, and a lot of cows.
On the farm, I have the freedom of dressing myself comfortably without worrying about how people are going to judge me. I avoid going to town, especially for any social gathering which is very rare anyway. Any school party makes me squirmish.
What I really love is to wake up early, brew freshly roasted coffee, and watch a rural TV program. Then, I like to spend time in my garden, where time seems to freeze, but it goes by in a blink. How pleasurable is to use foamy homemade soap on dishes and to hang clothes out in the wind and the sunshine.
Our pets are a bother when jumping on me or running in front of the car, but I can’t deny petting them a little. They look at me with loving eyes that I hardly have seen in people. For they get so happy with my food, I cook them rice and meat as often as I can. I bring them leftover meat I take from my classmates’ meal every weekend we go to the restaurant.
I haven’t bought a piece of clothing or shoes for over 18 months. I buy nothing useless, except, of course, food items. Even though I no longer buy sweets or espressos, I still buy ingredients to cook at home. Today I made key lime pie at my daughter’s request. Last week, I baked mandioc cake and made blackberry jelly. Before that, sesame seed praline. This week, my daughter and I lifted several pounds of sweet potatoes. Some will turn into sweets.
It seems contradictory, but the simple life I lead has things in abundance. It is called a bounty. The everyday chores seem to be a routine, until we realize that things are constantly transforming in front of us, making us marvel at nature.
Never before in my life, I felt so complete, even ceasing to search for something else. I don’t feel the need to find somebody else’s idea to defend. I am no longer in a hurry. I don’t have to live the world's demands. I found my home.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
June 15, 2010 – Healing the Wounds
June 15, 2010 – Healing the Wounds
Little I knew, eighteen months ago, when I moved back to the family farm that a healing process would take place.
“Caring for aging parents is not an obligation, but a privilege” – so said, my sewing instructor. I took her words into my heart and don’t regret the choice I made even though the future seems out of my control than ever.
I moved back to where I had left 28 years earlier. I had to face the little town I once despised, not as a winner but as a loser. I was coming back broke with a school-age child to raise. The worse scenario than this would be if I were a never-married single mom.
I pretend that I take care of my parents, but I am actually taken care of by them. I came back to a safe nest, where I clearly know where I stand and who I am. I know what is expected of me and try diligently to achieve that. Fulfilling the obligations no longer makes me feel oppressed but secure. I have a clean conscience and certain that I am doing the right thing. Not really as an obligation, but as a privilege that was given to me. I am sorry for my siblings that don’t participate in this process the same way the divorced father may not watch his daughter growing up millimeters a day.
My uncle’s wife got surprised in not finding me depressed; my neighbor asked me if I am always upbeat, without bad days; the bank worker called me Pollyanna. I really don’t see any reason to be unhappy. I am indeed happy.
I grow my own vegetables; I make my own soap; I cook every day; I eat wood-fired oven baked bread; I buy raw milk; I learned to love our five dogs, three cats, two rabbits, compost worms, kefir mushrooms. I get to ride a bicycle every afternoon with my daughter. I am teaching her to be self-sufficient and resourceful, even though I have to deal with the huge mess she leaves behind. I tell her that she is the most fortunate girl in the whole wide world. We have a large home, a thousand books, tools, materials, space, land, and nature. Parakeets and woodpeckers are part of our everyday life.
It doesn’t matter how busy I am. I can never catch up with my house chores or gardening. There are always many more things to be done than what I got accomplished in a given day. But I am always willing to take care of more living beings. I want a new kitty, a puppy, a goat, and a lot of cows.
On the farm, I have the freedom of dressing myself comfortably without worrying about how people are going to judge me. I avoid going to town, especially for any social gathering which is very rare anyway. Any school party makes me squirmish.
What I really love is to wake up early, brew freshly roasted coffee, and watch a rural TV program. Then, I like to spend time in my garden, where time seems to freeze, but it goes by in a blink. How pleasurable is to use foamy homemade soap on dishes and to hang clothes out in the wind and the sunshine.
Our pets are a bother when jumping on me or running in front of the car, but I can’t deny petting them a little. They look at me with loving eyes that I hardly have seen in people. For they get so happy with my food, I cook them rice and meat as often as I can. I bring them leftover meat I take from my classmates’ meal every weekend we go to the restaurant.
I haven’t bought a piece of clothing or shoes for over 18 months. I buy nothing useless, except, of course, food items. Even though I no longer buy sweets or espressos, I still buy ingredients to cook at home. Today I made key lime pie at my daughter’s request. Last week, I baked mandioc cake and made blackberry jelly. Before that, sesame seed praline. This week, my daughter and I lifted several pounds of sweet potatoes. Some will turn into sweets.
It seems contradictory, but the simple life I lead has things in abundance. It is called a bounty. The everyday chores seem to be a routine, until we realize that things are constantly transforming in front of us, making us marvel at nature.
Never before in my life, I felt so complete, even ceasing to search for something else. I don’t feel the need to find somebody else’s idea to defend. I am no longer in a hurry. I don’t have to live the world's demands. I found my home.
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