I am a Farmer
Farmer Ryan brings us this week’s blog post, three journal pages worth of personal musings on finding meaning in our daily lives and finding joy in the work of our hands.
I am a farmer. I prefer my coffee black in a stoneware mug, and I carry a pen in my pocket every day just like my dad taught me.
So here I am, a farmer. I am titled. Some call me lucky. Some call me foolish. Some call me blessed.
It is a strange thing, this farmer business. The idea of a farmer conjures up images as varied as the people who conjure up images. Do I grow corn for processing into ethanol so that the world can drive their cars farther for less money? Do I grow soybeans for crushing into oil and meal as additives in popular processed foods and industrial products?? Do I raise pigs, chickens, and beef in ultra-efficient, bio-secure commercial facilities to provide the lowest cost calories imaginable? Maybe I grow flowers, maybe mushrooms, perhaps fruit or wheat. Yaks, anybody? The International Yak Association* says yak steaks are “lean yet juicy”!
Am I defined by what I do, how I do it, why I do it, who I serve, how I present what I do, the consequences of what I do…
Maybe I’m defined by the clothes I wear. I do love a good flannel shirt! Maybe it’s the tools I use or the truck I drive that tells the story.
I hope my inner dialogue doesn’t define me. I’m not usually very kind to myself.
A farmer. Or am I just a grower, a facilitator, a guiding hand, or a manipulator.
They say farmers feed the world, but I don’t do that. I only feed my family, my neighbors, and my community.
Farmers are an independent lot, they say. That’s not me either. I need the help and support of others! I thrive only because of the other people in my life, employees, customers, neighbors, family, service providers with hearts of teachers, other farmers…
I don’t own a thousand acres or a million dollars worth of equipment. I don’t have a slick banker or huge barns with no windows.
What about my heart? I also have passion! I have two hands that engage in meaningful work. My creative mind engages with the boundless energy of the life around me, in the soil, the air, livestock and birds, worms and mycorrhizae! I breathe the fresh air of the farm I steward and find joy there, I find abundance!
My heart desires to share! I walk the land and imagine the generations before me. I accept the gifts they left for me. Maybe I will share their legacy: trees, a fence, soil organic matter, increasing earthworm populations, friendly neighbors, thoughtful husbandry. Good gifts all!
A farmer I am! Ever growing, ever learning, always adapting, always seeking.
I am a steward to whom a most valuable gift has been entrusted. I am humbled at the offering and awed to consider the value and consequence of this responsibility I have accepted.
I am a farmer.