A bit of a break..

14 months. I stopped writing when I got stuck. Maybe I got stuck when I stopped writing.. it was only ever meant for me. Putting the words into the universe was my biggest form of therapy, and I stopped doing it. So here's my attempt. A look back at how the past year has affected me.

...

Nothing went according to plan. I think I knew it wasn't going to. I never made it back out west to deal with my belongings- after the fires, and amidst the ongoing pandemic came the floods and landslides. Chaos had yet to subside before winter rolled in. Some time in between, travel restrictions were tightened down again. There was no good time to go before it ran out. I lost track of what I had left. But it's just stuff, right?

I didn't know when I came here what my situation would be. I didn't think I would be able to stomach living in the city, and I honestly didn't think I would stay. But I got lucky. With a place to be, and a somewhat 'light duty' and familiar job that would take me. I had just returned to work from medical leave a few months before I decided to come home, and I wasn't ready.

I convinced myself that I was okay. That I didn't hate the fact of leaving the 'dream' life behind. With not being able to go back for my belongings like I had planned to. With walking away from a career that was ultimately suffering due to the suddenly turbulent economy. With breaking off a long term relationship that I had built my life around- but was toxic and unhealthy. With missing out on the medical care I had waited so long for. With the fact that my mental health had diminished dramatically and I needed this change to begin to recover. But maybe I wasn't okay with it all. I didn't give myself a chance to be- to process everything.

My first few months in the province were softened by a series of distractions and adventures. I filled the void by attempting to reconnect with as many people as I could, and fill every conscious moment of every day with some sort of interaction. So I didn't have to be alone with my thoughts. So I didn't feel useless suddenly not having all of these living things to care for. The idea of attempting to work through my feelings was unbearable- so I did my best not to.

That burned me out too. I cut everyone off but a select few. I had to.

...

A few weeks ago it hit me. A quiet Sunday with nothing to do but sip coffee, watch a show and enjoy a peaceful moment with a friend. They couldn't help but notice the obvious anxiety that was creeping over me. I couldn't just sit in the moment. I explained the nagging feeling like I was missing something, or there was a deadline that needed to be met, a task that needed to be done, an obligation that required my attention. But I couldn't place it..

"So then relax and maybe allow yourself to enjoy the fact that there's literally nothing else you need to be doing right now"

That brief but critical conversation stuck with me. That's what I've been missing. The space to just allow myself to be. To relax on my days off. To simply enjoy the presence of my company. To spend some time not worrying about what I think I should be doing.

...

My natural state of being is so engrained with 'survival mode' anxiety that I lost track of the off switch. The majority of my adult life has required me to rise before the sun and get moving. Whether it was due to sleeping outside in a place I shouldn't be, or a mountain of morning farm chores that was waiting for me. I haven't allowed myself to relax and enjoy my current state of comfort or safety.


This is the first time in a decade that I have nothing else to worry about but me. I have a chance right now to figure out my next move. To take the small but necessary steps towards building myself up again. I have a place to sleep. There's always food to eat. And though it's not the best paying job, I know my hours are guaranteed. This might look like complacency, but I need this right now more than anything. I need to allow myself to take a little comfort in what I have. I know as well as anyone that discomfort is a motivator, and believe me I'll get back to that in a minute..


To be continued.

Eastward bound

 I started to write this blog post a couple months ago. I haven't written since May. I knew big things were happening. I could feel the impending change.

Last time I wrote, my world was shaky. My job no longer secure- both for lack of materials, and the physical strength to install them. Realizing that I'm no longer physically capable of many job things I could do before was a blow to the psyche. I knew I'd have to figure something out. I didn't know that once I had decided I was done, the universe would align almost immediately.

It never looks good in the moment. It's always an intense, sudden uncomfortable event that kicks me into motion. Discomfort makes us move. It's necessary, the biggest motivator. I found myself at my breaking point. I had to make the hard decision to walk away from the life I'd built up but could no longer handle.

There were other factors at play in my decision. After years of struggling to convince my partner to take a little bit of the responsibility weight off my shoulders, it finally did me in. The constant stressors that came with our lifestyle falling mostly on me shortened my burnout time. I reached it rather quickly- and then decided to try and drag myself along anyways. Until that moment on that one fateful day.

Thanks to covid delays, like thousands of others, not all of our permits were up to date. We were stopped on a routine check and told we could no longer drive the van until it was dealt with. We still had a 4 month wait. There's no way.. it's not impossible but it's certainly not easy living in a semi remote community without driving. That was the last straw. That bit of weight shifted enough to tip the scale. Instead of feeling angry and upset, I felt relieved that the choice had been made easy. I got my sign.


A few days later I'd set the date. Seven years was a long time to be anywhere for me. I never realized how deeply I wanted this change. It seems like going backwards. But after this long, and maybe just in general.. sometimes you have to take a big step back to continue to move forward. And I don't feel the least bit upset about it.

Don't get me wrong, it was a wonderful thing to experience being out there. I made great friends, had a million beautiful experiences, I learned a lot of stuff about things, and of myself. But it was long past due for my departure. I had to balance getting rides to the city for work and shipping my life to the east coast for the remainder of my time out there. It's a blur. Most of it was left there with my intent to return. But that didn't exactly go the way we thought it would either.

Shortly after my departure, the impending disaster that was the farm quickly unfurled. As the heat continued to be outrageous and the fires socking the valley in with smoke, the well system on the farm finally failed. A month has passed, and with several failed attempts to make the repair, we were left with no choice but to disband the farm. All of the animals are in the process of being rehomed, and our materials moving to neighbouring homesteads.

My belongings are still in the farmhouse. The moment I left I had to mentally write it all off as though it burned up in the fires. In order to get my head around leaving everything out there, I made a plan for my return to deal with it. I might not get the chance before the premises are vacated. But that was the point of letting it go. Just in case. I'm hoping it will be safely stored up the road until the world settles down a minute about this covid shit. It would be an easy flight out and back to ship it homeward if it wasn't for that. Hindsight and whatnot. At least I thought to put it all together before I left..

So I'm here. There's still a pandemic happening through which my timing to switch provinces was pretty on point. It was about as 'open' as the country had been this whole time, and shit shut down again pretty quickly not long after. I'm trying to enjoy the blessings in the moment without being overtaken by worry and guilt about leaving the farm in the middle of everything.

I had help writing a resume for the first time in years and I'm starting over to find a job. Pretty well back to where I started. In a room in a basement in my hometown on foot. It's kind of crazy to think about after everything.. that said, it's somehow been the best summer. I really missed my people. My place.. the comfort of knowing no matter what, I'm safe. I just need a minute to rest here a little.

Change

 I'm not working today because there isn't any. This week more than half of our crew was let go. I was thrilled to survive the cut (and not at all surprised, I'm good at what I do). But when our foreman came to us at the end of the day yesterday and said there's no work for any of us, I became nervous for the first time in my construction work history. 

I always thought this would be secure. There's always new houses. More people. People need places to live. I would retire from this company many many years from now making fat money. I finally work for a company that truly cares for its people. I can take leave as long as I want, and come back like nothing happened. I finally have security. Or not..

Materials are becoming scarce. What usually takes a day or 2 to order is now on a several month back order, and 5x the original cost. Companies on our same site are going bankrupt. Work is grinding to a halt. I never thought this would happen, especially considering there wasn't a single day of shutdown in our field during the pandemic. I thanked my stars for being 'essential'.

This kind of makes planning ahead a little difficult. I'd just finished revamping my whole ass budget so I could afford a vehicle upgrade and a cross country road trip in the hopefully not too distant future. But now that future is looking more blurry than ever. Not gonna lie, I'm a little concerned. I take my time deciding these days, and it seems when I finally do, things change. The only constant in life, indeed. 

3-11

 March 11th 2020 was the day it hit me- this whole pandemic thing is really happening, we're gonna do this. It seems like yesterday, but at the same time, forever ago. I remember chill of hearing about schools and theaters and businesses closing their doors. I'm typically a very adaptable person and can go with the flow, and even I felt mildly threatened by this sudden upheaval. 

This was the day I'd finally gotten my energy back after being sick for over a month. I decided to attempt to restock our now decimated pantry which had been depleted by weeks of staying home sick, and weeks before of winter weather keeping us grounded. Walking the aisles I quickly became numb and anxious- even our hidden little grocer had been gutted for every bag of rice and pasta. Panic had stricken the population into buying up all the dry food, canned goods and paper products they could- for fear of being locked down or quarantined. Luckily for me, no one had touched the produce.

Speaking of produce- I guess I spoke too soon. I was also late making my seed order, and was shocked to find that many of my regular items were long out of stock (and many still are). It's equally as encouraging as it was frustrating. At least people are taking interest in growing food. I hope that's a trend that continues, and the supply catches up with demand for seeds.

It's not just the food gardens people are after.. land is another thing that's becoming even harder to find, and selling at a premium. People want more space for those gardens- and a greater distance from others. Green space, room to breathe. Maybe they always wanted it as much as I ever did. But it took this global event to present a moment of "awakening". For lots of folks. An exodus from the city is in full swing. Land is changing hands quickly.

...

I knew looking back over my media posts this past year would feel.. strange. 311 has been showing up. I've been showing up.. it feels so much like I told you so...

...


It's been a whole year. It's been the longest year ever, yet it's gone by so quickly. It's hard to believe that in this amount of time, everything happened that did. February 3rd 2020 I went to the BC Women's Hospital for an appointment at the endometriosis Clinic that I have been waiting for for so long, and I got sick. The sickest I've ever been. Which eventually landed me in the hospital by the end of March, and my life hasn't been the same since.

I have now been back to work for over a month, and I'm not sure how much longer I can handle the job that I'm doing. Despite having almost a year off to find medical help and healing, I wasn't quite able to find the help I needed. And I'm not quite done healing yet.


2021 has only just begun, and already I'm feeling the weight of the season. Our crops must be carefully planned. Our time must be carefully utilized. And it is absolutely critical to stay positive.

The end- and the beginning...

 After a few hours up the hill chopping wood, my partner came back to the farmhouse looking a bit perplexed. He asks if I want the good news or bad news first- I always opt for the bad news to get it out of the way. "Farm sold" he says. The sale closes at the end of the month. The good news is they're giving us an extra couple months to figure out what we'll do about that. 

It was the last thing we'd expected at this point in time. The shock of our home-base changing hands suddenly in November hadn't worn off yet.

Though it wasn't expected, the news didn't come as a surprise. Back in summer 2019 when we moved the farm base up there, we knew the owner was thinking of selling. In fact, the property was currently on the market but no one was biting. His wife had passed a few years back, and he felt the acreage was a lot to manage without her. He's right, it didn't take long in her absence for everything to become overgrown.

We stayed anyways. We had a somewhat functioning farm on the five acres that needed a place to go. We spent the remainder of 2019 hauling up all of our accumulated building materials, our fifth wheel trailer, tools, and all the posts and fencing we had. If nothing else, it would be a great spot to park all our stuff when the 5 acres changed hands. We visited often with loads throughout the season, and spent time attempting to keep the invasive bramble at bay.

It didn't feel any kind of permanent- until 2020 came along with a pandemic. The landowner was traveling as the borders were being shut down. Up until that moment, he was still hoping to sell. When he finally got back into Canada and up to the farm, his tune had changed completely. We sat down and hashed out a rough ten year plan.

He felt extremely grateful to have this beautiful remote mountainside property to isolate in while the world shut down around us. In the wake of food shortages and society losing its shit, he had this. And us. He took the property off the market, invested tens of thousands into an excavator and equipment, and we got to work.

We spent an entire year cleaning up and planning. Over a kilometer of waterline was repaired and connected to bring spring water from the top of the mountain down to the field. We first built a barn completely out of reclaimed materials- just big enough for the goats to hang out with us on long days up the hill, and of course to store things in the loft and keep our tools dry. When it was finished, we could take our goats up to camp.

Almost an acre of blackberry bramble was peeled back off the field. The ground was leveled, and an area was made for our RV to park somewhat permanently. We started collecting materials for the shelter we planned to build around it. We even have a woodstove waiting.

The property owner had put hundreds of hours into operating the excavator. Repairs to the long driveway, the trail system, and the removal of some large dangerous trees. He learned to fix the machines. We spent an entire weekend together getting the dump truck up and rolling to make quicker progress on the land. It kept all of us busy in the strangest year of our lifetime.

On top of the pandemic, we each had our own hurdles to overcome. Not being able to travel is problematic for the landowner. And me suffering my own health crisis on top of everything really slowed me down. My partner has previous injuries that are coming back to haunt him. None of us came to admit it, this was all very daunting.

Though shock was definitely in the jumble of feelings in that moment, I was honestly relieved to hear the news.

Don't get me wrong. It's a beautiful property, and I have always felt a deep sense of honour and gratitude for the opportunity to spend our time there. I was always stoked for everything we talked about doing. But also very aware that at any point, it could all be over.

I feel like our presence there gave us each the opportunity to let go of something. Instead of dropping what we were holding on to in haste, we were instead able to put it down gently. I'm glad we were able to do that together. I'm thankful for the opportunity to reflect, and let go of ideals that don't serve me. I'm grateful for this time to learn some things about myself- to be honest with myself. To breathe.


Permanence in transience.
To be continued...

Sunday words

 I've been a little stuck for words lately. Particularly the written ones. Hell I can't even speak what's on my mind the way it appears. Sometimes I feel like maybe I shouldn't say a damn thing. I worry what'll happen if I do. But then.. what'll happen if I don't?

Anyways.

So 2021 eh. It's been interesting so far, I guess.. it's raining. Last day of January and it's only snowed that once since the solstice. I finally ran out of medical leave monies and had to go back to work last week. I ended up right back on the same site I left, 10 months before to the very day.

Not much has changed on the homefront since the farm sold. Did i mention that? A physician owns our farm. I mean, it's a lot more peaceful. Doctor farmer doesn't come around much in winter. He says we're nice people. We're only just doing what we do. Watch over the land, fix things when they break, make sure nothing gets taken. He's been here a few times. Bought a new tractor. Asks questions here and there. Drives here to pick up rent instead of me going all the way to the city. He's nice.


I'm still working on my health. It's not like I didn't already know I wasn't going to get any help with it. Pandemic or not, our medical system has no interest in healing chronic illness. Suppose I just felt I should go through the motions to further prove a point. Even doctor farmer says he goes to India when he needs medical help.. and he's a doctor!

I'm back where I started. Only I feel a little better for having let go of the notion that I could potentially find help outside of myself. For a minute there, I thought I'd wasted time taking leave, stressing about not being at work, having a nice long moment to myself. Alas, the time itself was what I needed, and would never have had otherwise. I had time to observe, notice subtleties and changes in my health depending on input and environment. I would have never in any other circumstances had so much time to just.. do that. Thanks, pandemic.


I'm not out of the woods yet. But I feel like I've begun to forge a path out of its darkest places. I know a long term fix won't be an easy one. I need to simultaneously make small but impactful steps on all facets of my health, not just the physical. I can't run this off, or diet it away. I'm also working on the headspace. And the spirit. A very slow and steady process.

Making very slow.... but steady progress.

I can do this. I mean, I have to, or I die slowly and uncomfortably for the rest of my life. I'm not into that. Happy suNday.

 

Switch

 I think it's safe to say that this year has been an Awakening in some form or another for many of us. For myself, experiencing a Health crisis amidst a pandemic certainly left me shook. Back in 2014 I was in the best health of my life. I promised myself then that I would never let myself fall into a state of dis-ease ever again. And here I am 6 years later, awash in a disarray of medical mystery. 

It took years of hard work and dedication to reclaim my health in my late twenties. Having diminished that almost completely by my mid-30s has left me mourning the loss of something that meant everything to me. Freedom from unnecessary daily suffering. I struggled my entire life with some autoimmune disorder or another, and for the most part I'd finally had them under control. I had found the will and desire to put in the effort to take the best care of myself that I could. I had shelter, a kitchen and a garden. I had learned to make do and thrive in an environment that was once killing me.

Then something happened. Well a bunch of things happened, a sudden change in my state of mind, my environment and my intention. I held onto the self care habits for as long as I could despite my situation, but somewhere along the way I lost the most important thing. My peace of mind.

I catch myself forgetting to breathe sometimes. Anxiety, guilt, depression.. internal things. Feelings I haven't dealt with following a series of traumas. And instead of addressing them, I've buried them in busi-ness and obsessive, damaging behaviours. I've been exporting my efforts into rearing animals and keeping gardens, yet failing to allow myself to fully benefit from the positive environment I'm attempting to create for myself. From the outside looking in, it appears that I should be healthy, but I'm not. I'm sick, and tired, and often and a great deal of pain.

I find myself mindlessly going through the motions of the day. Perhaps I have been stuck on autopilot more than I realized. I find that being more mindful in my actions and more specific in my intentions alleviates anxiety, but I have been forgetting to do this... I feel like I've spent this entire year just waiting for something. All the medical testing, sudden flare ups and fear of the unknown has me stuck in this vicious cycle of distracted inaction.

I'm taking a moment to recognize this, and to write it out as a reminder, and to share it for the sake of accountability. I owe myself better than my current experience. I deserve to enjoy the life that I have built up for myself without being stuck in the clutches of discomfort caused by a myriad of probably preventable health issues that could be avoided by diverting all of this stress. I need to flip the switch.


It's time to do better.