Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Remember these things


There is a point in the morning when I open my laptop and begin to write, write about the crazy time last night as a Doe gave birth, or the absolutely insane drama of lambing, and then as I’m thinking about these things it enters my mind that I really don’t have time to write. Writing would be nice I think, but I have so much work to do I really can’t afford myself the luxury of writing. So I slam my computer shut and trod off to get some work done.

Last count we have 54 lambs, give or take 2 or 4. Things seem so chaotic right now. The loud baaa’s of new moms trying to find their lambs and the lambs trying to find their moms in a sea of other lambs and ewes. I can’t keep them straight. At this point I have no idea who belongs to who and I must must must put my faith in the idea that they do. Life feels so delicate so fragile so terrifying and I feel so out of control. The thing that I have come to understand and yet again reminded of is I never had control in the first place. Didn’t need it and still don’t. I’ve evaluated my role and I’m satisfied with the part I’m playing. Everyone has shelter, good pasture, clean hay and water, a charged fence, minerals, love and attention. I’m doing everything I should and everything that I need to do.

Mind over matter is my mantra. The knowledge that the one thing I do have control over is how I react. I want so badly to be the Zen monk unfazed by adversity or strife or hard work or exhaustion or hunger. I want to rise above my mental limitations and find a quite place in the storm in my mind. But the fact remains that I’m so tired I put brown sugar and milk on my poached egg instead of my oat meal. My patients are extremely short and logic is hard to come by. I’ve “hit the bell curve” a friend tells me who I called for some moral support,” it’s all downhill after this, your past the half way point.” These were the reassurances I needed to hear.
I see that lambing and kidding during planting time was a mistake. So I’ve learned. Next year will be different. Better to lamb and kid later when I have interns, okay lesson learned, pretty simple fix. I’ve had harder lessons. So I’ll continue to put my faith in the harmony of nature and my ability to respect it.

I’ll try to be good to myself and eat and write and sleep, which are three things that keep me healthy. I’ll remember joy and that I am capable of having a great deal of it. I’ll try to remember these things.

1 comment:

Head Gardener said...

I pop into your site frequently to browse through the photos of your adorable goats. Their little faces always bring a smile to mine. But... 54 lambs?? Holy smokes. No wonder you are in overwhelm. Hang in there. Breathe. It sounds like you are doing everything right.