Spring Break

Our county schools are closed this week and I find myself experiencing "Spring Break" in a whole new light. Though it's been nearly a decade since I was matriculating anywhere, I've recently gone back to school -- as a teacher (of sorts). For the first time in my life I have a "9-to-5" job from which to have such a "Break", call it spring or otherwise. My new state of employment came with no lack of soul-searching. Am I breaking the Homesteaders' Creed by taking a full-time job away from home?



For most of 2012 my husband and I were bringing the speeding train of our retail pastured-meat business to a slow and screeching halt...partly for health reasons and partly for lifestyle reasons. We'd come to realize that our breakneck pace of life was actually impeding our ability to thrive as individuals and as homesteaders. Go figure! We built the business on the foundation of our philosophical ideals, but four years into it we simply didn't have the time, energy, or lifeblood to live sustainably on a personal level. We determined that our healthful future was dependent upon us making a massive shift in our trajectory. From February 2012 - January 2013 we wrestled with the ebb and flow of dismantling the business we'd worked tirelessly to build. All the while, we began to discuss what our next steps would be -- the move into the shop apartment, the postponement of building our house for at least another year, the joining of our garden endeavors with those of our family, a sabbatical from milking the cow and raising hogs, the tenants of Weldon's path to recovery, and so on.

During this time I became increasingly plagued by a nagging question, "What am I going to do with myself now that we've hit the restart button?" Weldon would be working part-time as an environmental consultant and otherwise strictly focused on his health. But what about me? Though I was committed to continue my soil-to-table education and to write more fervently, this was not enough of an answer. The expanse of time ahead of me was too great for the options I had in front of me. It was easier to narrow down what I didn't want to do or for practical reasons couldn't do right now. But even that thought process gave me little relief. The whole situation left me feeling adrift. I'd always had a plan, but where was it now!?! Eventually, I took to the notion that a little bit of drifting wasn't going to hurt and that I should just go with the flow. This would be a big a change indeed.

Every "job" I've ever had was a commitment signed in blood, sweat, tears, and many more working hours in the week than forty. I didn't mind it at the time and still don't looking back. It was all I knew and exactly what I expected the road to successfully "doing what I love" to feel and look like. This may account for why, at the age of 29, I don't have a conventional employment record. I graduated from college with a degree but immediately went into music full-time as a touring recording artist, a pursuit that began in my early teens along with my two older sisters. I was wholeheartedly committed to making my way in the world through independent music, humanitarian work, and social justice. We ran our band like a business. We were in charge of and responsible for everything from soup to nuts, or booking the tours to signing the autographs. Years later, through a series of events that I won't go into here, I moved to Kentucky and dove headlong into another business venture -- the establishment and start-up of my mother's farm bed & breakfast. As her doors opened in fall 2009 and I started transitioning to part-time work with the B&B, Weldon and I were saying, "I do's" in spring of 2010. At that point I was poised to begin my own homestead (finally!) and was getting in gear for our burgeoning farm business. Needless to say, I have a colorful array of priceless life experiences, but none that had me punching the conventional clock. Which brings me back to the present...

As the New Year's bells of 2013 rang out, I decided to go back to one of my first loves -- school. I was hired as a substitute teacher. It was an excellent fit. Flexible. Local. Decent Pay. And I could start immediately -- no extra degrees or expenses. Barely a month into it I was recommended to apply for a new, grant-funded position at a local middle school that would focus on college-prep math and language arts tutoring. It was full-time. Yikes! Full-time?!?! As in, every day I would leave my home and then return to fit in my made-from-scratch living around my "working" hours?!?! Could I do such a thing? Should I? I didn't have months to make up my mind. Like many things that "fall from the sky" there was a deadline and it was short. Was I in or out? As I pondered the opportunity, it passed all my checkpoints: 1. I am interested and capable in the field, 2. It's a local job where I can remain plugged in to my community, 3. So much of my horizon has been cleared by our business/homesteading transition that I feel comfortable and excited to be stepping into full-time employment at this moment in my life, 4. Weldon is in support of whatever I decide (not surprising, but worth a mention!) 5. It makes financial sense as an upgrade from substitute teaching considering we just shut down our main stream of income last year, and 6. Certainly not least, I have evenings, weekends, and summers to keeping growing, cooking, learning, and homesteading.

Three weeks ago I started my new job and despite the adjustments, I really like it. Being a young professional is a nice add-on to my life experiences and I don't even mind packing my lunch like I used to in grade school. As I settle into the rhythm of this phase of my life, I'm convinced that I've found my answer. No -- I'm not breaking the Homesteaders' Creed by taking a full-time job. The not so secret secret is that there is no Homesteader's Creed. Like every one else on the planet, I am required to live in reality and make the best decisions I can with the choices I have in front of me. I desire to live simply, in connection with nature, and to make our home a place of net production rather than net consumption. I can do all of this right now while working outside my home. Though it's easy to associate homesteading with hippie hoakiness or idyllic simplicity, the truth is that a balance must be found in all things and the heart needs to be at peace. If I view taking this job as a wonderful opportunity (which I do), then there's no need for me to fear a moratorium on my homesteading. Likewise, I can't gauge my own journey by how Harry Homesteader or Susie Farm-A-Lot have determined theirs should be.

So as I enjoy my first Spring Break (from employment), I'm organizing seed packets and starting on my lettuce plantings, tending to chicks that are quickly outgrowing their quarters, continuing with house demolition, and hosting out-of-state friends for some long-overdue visiting. I even got my car cleaned and waxed -- it desperately needed some TLC now that we're commuting!