Slight Hope. It Dangles on a String. Like Slow Spinning Redemption.

Remember those seedlings trampled and ravaged by some wild animal? Just like me, they're about to make a comeback.

Not much has happened around the homestead due to lack of funds, lack of motivation, lack of everything but time. That I have plenty of. Hoping soon that there will no longer be a problem with that and someone will find it in their heart to offer this girl a chance at finding something meaningful in terms of a career. I'm on the upswing baby- I can feel it. I just want to make a difference.

This being without a job, I cannot sugar-coat it; the worst is the waiting. It is horrendous and soul sucking, the day after day of no calls and no offers, of wondering if something I said or did or am is in someway inadequate. I tire of it all. I tire of feeling as if I am not good enough for the hundreds of places I have applied, that in some way I am defective. I am letting go of it tonight. Say goodbye to insecurity and hello to self-worth.

What I can do instead of wait is write, write my heart and soul out on this blog and in my journal about all the crushing feelings, the disappointment that comes from being unemployed, the vast dissatisfaction at never seeming to be quite enough in a competitive market. I am through wringing my hands in anticipation. I am dropping my fear of failure at this off a cliff, letting it go.

The right job is coming my way. I just have to let it get here, which it will do in its own good time. I have to have faith. All things grow and die, come and go, burn out and fade away. At some point this situation must change, but that doesn't mean I can quit trying.

A long walk with an old friend today revealed to me, in a moment of Zen, that in order to live, I must accept failure. Every interview I have, whether or not I get the job, is another blessing, another chance at practicing my skills and networking with others. There are lessons in both outcomes, and a phoenix can rise from these ashes of my defeat. If I let myself cling only to feelings of failure and inadequacy, I only cause myself more heartbreak and anguish. It's okay to enjoy the process, the sense of exploration and adventure that comes with starting a new career. I don't need to make what will eventually pass more of an arduous process by grasping for control or trying to force the world to unfold according to my timeline.

So I am seeing the seedlings as a bright new sign, an omen that the tides are changing and all that is is passing away. We'll start a new chapter, a new adventure right here where we are, for where else can I start? The chickens are coming and it will be a new season of bounty on the SemiFarm, with all the focus in life turned to illuminating the good, being grateful for what I have and am instead of ruminating about what I lack. Each day will be an adventure in mindfulness, a new chance to believe in the cycles of birth and death, of growth and change. On this lonesome road I'm travelling on, I'm setting down the fear the best I can and carrying on lighter and freer for it.

I believe a better time is just moments beyond my view. Sometimes all you can do to change the world is just one little thing. My little thing is hope.

No Ordinary Moments

Since I am waiting for my friend to get my chickens, we have a bit of a delay in the homesteading plans. Since the coop is complete and we have some time yet to get supplies, we took advantage of this time to begin our garden this year, or at least start planning it.
This year's garden is a low-budget affair on account of me not working at the moment. So hubs picked up a few seed starting trays from the local Walmart and I busted into last year's bounty of seeds from Seed Savers Exchange and Burpee's organic selection. I already have some broccoli plants started as well as a peach tree on my back porch and have direct sown some spinach, chard, leeks and radishes out in the plot we used last year that dad has filled up for me already. Today I went out and sowed some peas under the trellis, so in a couple of months we should have some delectable snow peas to put in our salads.
My wonderful neighbors at the farm have been gracious enough to share their harvest of asparagus with us, and I am excited to taste fresh, homegrown spears with tonight's dinner. We have rain coming up the next few days. At least that's what they're calling for, so I should have plenty of time to make up a sweet thank you note and send it off to them. I can't think of anyone I'd rather live by than this family, who is so generous and caring. We borrow eggs and time from one another, share coffee and childcare, and I am so grateful for their friendship.
I love this time of year. This spring has been fantastic and I am enjoying every minute I get to spend here at the SemiFarm. I desperately need work and believe the right thing will come along in due time, so I am filling my waiting moments in between applications and interviews with lots of outdoor time, tai chi, reading and reflection, and practicing meditation on my back porch as much as possible, with the wind caressing my hair and the birds as a soundtrack to my bliss. I enjoy the possibility that lies in spring, when, as Dan Millman put it, there are no ordinary moments. Growth and change is all around us, in the air and the earth, and everything, including hope, is born anew.
I am practicing patience and presence as I wait for seedlings to sprout and hens to arrive. I am trying to enjoy the journey, which, after all, is more important than destinations. This present moment is a precious moment and will never happen again. I'm going to savor it, like local asparagus, and revel in each breath of this country air, every ray of this brilliant sun and radiant moon and take time to enjoy the wait. Each moment is special, happens only once, and is perfect. It is all I have to enjoy and the way things change around here, not a one of them is going to be ordinary.

waitless.

i am but a small part
inside a large whole
spreading out all around me
infinite
here i sit grounded in me
watching it all go by
a winding country road
bent over some far away horizon
i'm a cog in the machinery
a blip in the Universe
important but tiny
whose purpose cannot be seen
from the finite view of
my one little part
so instead
radiant, hopeful
i spread my wings
unfurled
and jump :in faith:
praying for the winds to
bear my weight
and gently guide
(glide?)
me in the right direction