I receive so many kind messages about the farm, and it’s actually kind of a relief that people are willing to indulge me when I share stories, because I love sharing them 😁
I think we have entered an exhausting era of the internet... social media influencers, sponsored advertising, privacy concerns, and constant chaos in the news are all contributing to this feeling of dissatisfaction.
The farm, for me, makes all of that go away. It feels whole. It’s a private place to get outside and be a kid again. It brings me down to Earth (literally into the dirt of this planet). This winter we have been building animal shelters, managing muddy pastures, feeding and watering animals, and restructuring our garden in preparation for spring. It’s hard work, in the rain, shoveling poop, carrying buckets, and lugging tools.
But at the end of the day, after I tuck all the animals into their barns and turn around... I can’t help but get a little romantic about the warm glow of our porch light.
I think those concepts really resonate with our instincts. Fields of grass, evergreen trees, a small home with a roaring fireplace, family gathering around a big table, an old dog with a gray muzzle lounging on the porch. It always strikes me that these images are naturally more powerful to us than a new makeup look or latest tech device.
One of my favorite poets used his poetry to seek out “the sublime,” that is, the highest degree of spiritual excellence, grandeur, beauty, or awe-inspiring apex in a single moment.
The sublime, I think, just exists in living a life that makes you feel whole. Every single day. If I had one wish for the world, it would simply be that everyone live their own version of my small-but-sublime porch light moment... and go play outside for a little bit.