I seem to be doing these "Reflection" posts quite frequently this year. It's nearly the end of August, so roughly over a month since my last Bushland Project reflection. So why do it?
I have such an enquiring mind and one that seeks more answers. What am I doing here? Why this path? What could I be doing better? It's almost like I'm not content with the here and now. This is almost true, if I wasn't so focused on improving the way we live.
It just occured to me today, that there's more contentment to be found in the here and now but idealism about the right path to take, can sometimes shroud the way. A lot of media coverage - and certainly a lot of blog discussions on the www, seems to be focused on the end. The end of Industrialisation. The end of Oil dependency, and the very end of family financial security. I don't doubt these are all important issues and as such, should be explored by every individual. But the idealism of "the end" seems to define the choices we make.
Every gardener knows there is a season for every plant. We prepare the soil, we germinate the seeds and tend to their every need for a harvest to be gleaned. But then the plant withers and dies at the right time. Dought, pests, flood and bushfires always threaten the progress of the little seedling - but we still hope as we tend the garden that we will get something from it.
Which brings me back to my Bushland Project reflection this month. I've been so worried about "the end" of financial security, or "the end" of a job - or indeed the end of the Bushland Project, that I forget to enjoy the process of where I am right now. If the end comes, so it must and the season will be right for it. I accept this in my garden - why am I so hesitant to accept this in my own human fragility?
I thought the answers were in contemplating selling, getting out of debt, downsizing, growing more vegetables, building another chicken coop and the list goes on. But the answer is in absorbing the process that now is a good time to be here - come what may - I have dreams to harvest and I cannot keep running to the next "idealised" safe haven.
What being here has taught me - what the stuggle of being here has taught me, is that I'm just as fragile as the land around me. I will grow here and I will be tested here. The process is that I'm already part of it, and being afraid only stunts the ability to adapt.
I really feel liberated that I can be part of what I'm doing now. Come what may, I'm prepared to adapt. The end is the beginning, as the beginning is to the end. Celebrate the season of life, wherever you are.