Changing the light

Last night I took the kids to visit their grandparents who were camping about 10 minutes down the highway from their house. I asked my father-in-law what the point of camping so close to home was - why not just save the hassle of loading the camper and just read a book in the backyard? He told me it was to get a break. “If I am in my back yard, no sooner do I sit down than I notice something that needs attention. Lawn to be mowed, weeds pulled, a sprinkler not working. I can’t relax looking at what needs to be done. When I am here, I am giving myself permission to Just. Sit.”
That resonated. Living on the orchard and “working from home” is a double edged sword. I don't have to sit in a car or get squeezed on a train to get to work, but then it's also hard to ever leave work. Living here is beautiful, but weeks will go by where I scarcely notice. I’m sure everyone with a farm has felt these same golden handcuffs.
One of my retired orchard mentors, Bob Thompson, spent his career living in a normal suburban house and commuting to the orchard. At the end of the day, he parked the tractor and drove home. He mostly took weekends off. He credited this with helping him maintain both some sanity and an identity other than just “farmer.”
We’re not about to leave, and in truth I love being here and also enjoy the challenge of having lots of projects. But I also chronically under-appreciate the value in taking a break once in a while to create the mental space to think.

With Dominion, Luke, Robbie and I used to talk about the strategic and tactical sides of the business. Strategic is about thinking and planning the future and deciding where we want to go, while tactical is all about enacting the plan. We would use the winter off-season when things were slow to step back a bit and think, because once spring came we were usually so busy just “doing.” Each side is critical, but hard to to concurrently.
My head has been full lately trying to do both.

This morning I read this quote: "I always forget how important the empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal... the most valuable thing one can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, to live in the changing light of a room."
I haven’t changed the light in a while. With that in mind, tomorrow my wife and I are taking the kids to the ocean for a week. It will be Mark’s first time. Looking forward to a few days exploring tide pools and some mental space for strategic thinking. Or maybe I’ll just stop at the exploring part.
Until next time,
Mike