It is July already, and we have just been through what we here on the farm refer to as the season of doing and not being. All of May and June we rush about planting, weeding, replanting, spraying, pruning, mowing, weed eating. The animals still need to be fed and watered and let out to graze. Addie still needs to be milked. We are outside all day. We start early and end late. Now in July we can settle down a little and observe what all this work has produced. But that also means I have more time to think about my life which can have mixed results.
I have been thinking a lot about change recently. Some good friends who I never dreamed would move are leaving New England for Florida. My cousin and his wife who have run a summer camp for thirty plus years, where year after year we have gotten together as a family, are planning to retire next year. A colleague who I went to seminary with has renounced her ordination vows. I just didn’t see any of these changes coming, and I felt as if I had taken a punch. The world as I had come to count on it had changed, and I felt betrayed, unsettled, sad that I was losing pieces that I thought had been built into the shape of my life.
Oh I knew there were good reasons for all of these changes, new possibilities for each of their lives, but my world suddenly had a few cracks in it which is when the angel that watches over me reminded me of words from a Lenard Cohen song…”there is a crack in everything / that’s how the light gets in”… I want to be willing to see what that light has to show me and not get stuck in grieving the past. I really do want to be willing. The truth is, some days I am more willing and some days I am not.
I know moving from an old way of being to a new way of being always involves some kind of pain. But then again where would we be if the shape of our lives didn’t keep unfolding. I take all of this into my silence and release it to be transformed, to transform me. Only by sitting still and not running away from it will that happen.
The sun is high and finally it really is warm. We should have peas by the end of this week. Already we are enjoying curly kale and Swiss chard from the garden. The baby goats have finally graduated to being fully integrated into the herd, although I do have to factor in some serious loving time after the morning milking and feeding. Ridley, the little boy, still loves to settle in my lap and lay his head against my shoulder. But then again, from my point of view, that has to be one of the best ways imaginable to start the day.