Possibility

The green of summer pastures has faded to distant memory and the snow flakes swirl in the wind outside my window. Shades of brown branches are spotted with five cardinals, who flitter about, offering me ample distraction from starting my task at hand. January is a time of reflection, planning, visioning and questioning, which do not make for flashy photos, even the brilliant red dots among the brown and white background are impossible to capture. Lovett did help us this week to hammer out some planning and visioning for the farm by putting down some important notes on our yearly wall calendar: in late November we will have ❤️s, Ts, Os and Ps. The rest is details.

As a parent I find wisdom in watching our children mimic and reflect what they find in the world. We have gone from a spring, summer and fall of outdoor doing — moving animals, fixing and building things and playing in the woods. These days Racey and I spend much more time with pen and paper, books and our computers. Not surprisingly, I recognize that determined look on Lovett’s face as she works out her next T.

The concentration and slight scowl on Lovett’s face brings my awareness back to my own struggles. Perhaps she has been feeling this from me? Planning for the future has been increasingly difficult for me, especially when it comes to business planning. At the depths of the creases in my furrowed brow lies the fear that we will fail. And worst of all that many others like us will also fail. We have run our business for 10 years now, and I am afraid that without me the farm, our food and the business will not continue. I want to leave lasting change in our food system, enduring past my own energy, capacity and lifespan. It is this fear that stops me in the planning and visioning, like a heavy wool blanket thrown over my head leaving me blind, disoriented and itchy.

I shared in years past some of the wisdom and healing I found through the herniated disc and sciatic pain that kept me in bed for more than three months during the summer of 2021. (If you’re interested you can scroll back in the blog to the summer of 2021.) I’ve been vividly reminded recently of this journey by some twinging nerve pain in my neck and shoulder. My back healing came through the realization and perspective shift that patterns in my body reflect patterns in my life. Healing and growth has continued for me over the last year and a half through continued training and course work with my friends Ani and Brian and their incredible educational programs in their Somatic Coaching Academy.

This weekend I took a refresher course called Core Centering Practitioner (I am a certified core centering practitioner:) I had two goals in taking the course again:

1. Look for insight into how to work through this dark wool blanket of decision making/goal setting.
2. Cultivate the confidence and perspective to start teaching and sharing what I’ve learned with more people.

Given the depth, talent and inspiring content I’m not surprised I found both. To illustrate what I found regarding my wool blanket decision making I’ll use an analogy: imagine you are a mail delivery person, you walk up to the house you’re delivering to and a dog is waiting at the front door. You know that if you quickly approach an animal with arms raised and tense body language the dog might run away or even bite in self defense. If you approach with soothing sounds, hands low and offering affection the dog will likely start to wag its tail and muzzle your hand. In the first approach we probably trigger the dog’s threat response with adrenaline and other hormones that prime the dog’s body to fight or flight. In the second approach we hopefully inspire some endorphins and pleasure hormones and receive a warm welcome. Two different physiological states with two very different decisions.

I realized I’m trying to make decisions, choices, set goals while my body feels like there’s a rabid dog chasing me: I am afraid. The course reminded me of the many tools I already know, and some I’d forgotten, to bring me back to my proverbial doorstep ready to greet the mail delivery. Even now as I sit here on Saturday evening finishing up my thoughts, my body exhausted from two full days of openness, learning and balancing release, I see possibility and not the dark itchy barrier of fear.

My second goal is here in these words. To let you know what is possible. There’s more work to be done, more practice, awareness around my patterns and understanding what drives my fear. The weight is lifting, however. Below is a fitting photo Racey took of a young Hemlock that had it’s top pushed to the ground under the weight of a heavy snow. In the thawing warmth of afternoon sun the tree began lifting the heavy ball of snow off the ground, stretching back towards the sun.