Discouraged.
To deprive of courage or confidence.
I remind myself that 'discouraged' is a verb and transient. I allow myself to feel what I need to feel and then move on. It's a clunky process for as an eternal optimist, the experience never feels like me but rather, more like a stranger.
For fleeting moments this weekend, I have felt utterly discouraged, my confidence deflated. As we build Rivendell, I have been reflecting on this and the newly discovered fragility of my confidence. There are many things that come up like my weight and physical stamina but what sticks is always returning to the idea that previously, when I lived a more rural lifestyle and tended after large gardens, orchards, and many animals, everything was already built. Other than design new elements at the farm, I never had to worry about animal shelters, fencing, storage sheds, and so forth.
This is all new to me.
I've never built a sanctuary from scratch.
When Paul and I developed the strategic plans for Rivendell, we identified key structural needs: fencing, gates, zones, and safety issues. We planned two weeks for gates and fences.
We had a good laugh about that timeline last evening.
Laughing at yourself helps.
We've made a hundred mistakes but when you step back and look at the bigger picture, we've also surmounted incredible obstacles. We've wisened up enough to know that fences can't be built by 1.5 people (I'm the .5 as my physical ability and stamina are no where near Paul's) in two weeks. To hit our timelines of bringing animals home in the new year, we are going to need many hands.
This past week, we reached out to friends. The response has been overwhelming and this weekend we had our first two non-family volunteers.
And, that's when I lost my remaining confidence.
Witnessing this husband and wife dynamic duo come in and know immediately how to build, where to start, what to tweak... well, it brought to the surface my deficits. I recalled myself ten years ago, wearing muck boots two sizes too large, gloved up with a hay hook in each hand, and throwing bales of hay up into a truck that I had precisely back-up to the ideal spot. What happened to that woman?
Too many years behind a desk. Too many miles driven in a fancy car. Too many sunrises without a cool mist and the soft neighs of a horse saying good morning.
Am I too old to find a harmonious balance between the academic and farmer? Does it always have to be one or the other? I wonder if anyone else wrestles with the same thing.
We knew Rivendell would teach us much. It always delivers. Consistent with each lesson, is the opportunity for reflection, healing, and personal growth. I embrace the lessons as they come and can't wait to see where I will be a year, five years, and ten years from now. Goodness, isn't life wonderful?
Now, I would like to announce...
With all thanks to a beautiful couple and Rivendell's first volunteers...
WE HAVE GATES!
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