Life Happens; Stay in the Fight, Stay in Place

things go wrong, it's hard, it's often not pretty, and that's how it should be

The Bad, and the Ugly

Let’s just start with chickens; seems as good a place as any. In recent weeks some of the layers have seen fit to roost on the front porch. Frustrating to be sure. And there is no sleep to be had after the cocks start crowing at 0530! Chicken wrangling becomes a thing as we try to get them back to the coop, hopefully imprinting on them that it is where they are supposed to be. No luck. Three relatively new roosters, an older hen, and six pullets. Yesterday Jack and James slaughtered and butchered the three roosters and they are now in the freezer. It’s called farming; the animals that don’t behave are culled.

And, for year two in a row, we lost a lot of meat birds to predation. Last year it was the first night in the chicken tractor, this year it was the first night in the brooders; at least it can’t be said that I made the same mistake twice, but that’s about all of the good that can be said. Thirty-five birds gone, not a speck of blood or single feather to be found.

The Wood-Mizer breakdowns have been driving me to distraction, and in every case I find that the issue is not maintenance related; that makes me feel a bit better, but it doesn’t solve the problems. These breakdowns are very costly in terms of time and money, and that’s before we talk about the impact on our customers.

We had hoped to turn the Farmhouse around in a week; it is going to be closer to four. The fundamental reason is that we chose to have a lot more work done than we had initially planned. Good in the long run for sure, but a problem in the near term.

And I’m sure the list could go on, but you get the point. Shit happens as they say. It’s not two steps back for every step forward, but is probably close to 2 or 3 steps back for every 3 or 4 forward. Some years ago Geri and I took a course from Landmark Education; it was a year long, and I remember looking back to see great change, brought about in very subtle ways. The small groups that met weekly would come back together quarterly to form a larger group; with each of these quarterly meetings came a “Wisdom Tip,” and Wisdom Tip #4 was, “This is the way life looks when it's working.” The point being, if you want life to look different, you have to show up differently in the world. Life offers us correction at every misstep, if only we are aware enough to see and heed the guidance. We are taught very effectively by making mistakes and suffering their consequences, and God willing the instruction will never end. I would go so far as to say that if you are not making mistakes, and suffering through the results, then growth has ceased. So there is that, I’m still growing.

The Good; Is the Glass Half Empty, or Half Full?

It is neither of those possibilities as it turns out; in spite of the setbacks noted above, the glass is way too small and is overflowing to such an extent that the only solution might be to fetch a 55 gallon drum to catch the overflow! And I think it is evidence that we in the U.S. have been getting things if not all wrong, then pretty damn close to all wrong, for a very, very long time. Certainly since the opening of the 20th century, if not even earlier than that.

We have had four young men at Primal Woods for four weeks as of yesterday; James is a recent graduate of Hillsdale College, Jack has one semester left at Hillsdale, Nick will be a Junior this fall at University of Detroit Jesuit High School and Academy, and “Big Nick” is a student at Indiana University. Big Nick is not an intern of ours, but is staying with us while interning at a company in South Haven, MI.

Remember above I talked about renovation of the Farmhouse, which is intended to be intern housing, and which has gone wrong in some ways? That situation was in fact a blessing in disguise. Since June 1 we have basically been living with these young men, and from our point of view things could not have worked out more perfectly. We are working together, eating our meals together, exploring farm and business and life possibilities together; we’ve formed a Wednesday night book club, we are attending my Men’s Group at Outpouring of Hope Cafe together, and we are even enjoying our off-hours together, watching movies, playing games, and so on. Awesome does not begin to describe it from where I sit. It is of note I think, that none of the good has anything whatsoever to do with being successful, or even productive for that matter. Again, “this is the way life looks when it’s working.”

And this is where culturally we are getting it nearly all wrong. On a relatively recent visit to Hillsdale I picked up a book at the College bookstore titled Localism in the Mass Age: a Front Porch Republic Manifesto. In the book a few of the essays hit me particularly hard, especially one titled “The Orphans of Success and The Longing For Home,” by one of the co-editors of the book, Jason Peters.

One of the direst consequences of that great liberal affliction known as hypermobility is that many parents must raise their children in the absence of grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. Familial ties are so attenuated, and familial influences so muted, that children scarcely know who they are much less where they are…I do think it is socially injurious that so many people — and they are usually considered very “successful” — raise their children in the absence of their extended families. And I expect the consequences of this to be more devastating than we’ve yet imagined — and more devastating still if it turns out that we are too myopic to notice them.

Things Get Really Strange

I’ve come to call these sorts of happenings “God winks,” or “divine appointments,” but regardless, in conversation with James regarding the book, it comes up that Jason Peters, the author of the aforementioned essay, was James’ advisor at Hillsdale! Realization of that led to a trip with James to visit Jason’s farm southeast of Lansing, and about three hours of delightful conversation, sitting under an apple tree in Jason’s backyard. During that conversation I confessed to Jason that I could be a poster boy for parents who have orphaned their children; I lost track at 25 moves, some near, some very far, but I think the move to Michigan was number 28. I suppose it could be said that I achieved some level of “success” along the way, but believe me when I tell you that is no, not even small, consolation.

Looking Back

I remember when I was on the way to “success,” if it can even be called that, and reckoned a 10 or 15% pay hike would justify a move. The problem with that calculus is that it totally ignores the social costs, which are difficult to quantify, so I didn’t, and those costs are in hindsight, massive. The sharing of this story is no doubt a subconscious, perhaps even conscious effort to repent for my “sins” in this regard. Maybe that can be said of the entire lifestyle Geri and I are leading now; I haven’t given that enough thought yet to know for certain.

But, my unsolicited advice, with the benefit of too much hindsight, is that the default choice should be to stay, or return home, and it should take the entire team of Budweiser Clydesdales pulling in unison to move one off that choice.