Stop. Collaborate and Listen. Seriously.

Well, it has been almost 10 months since I moved to Devon, and nearly 2 and a half years since I left London. Not quite a brand new adventure anymore, but I have certainly reached a point where a pause to reassess the direction is necessary.

Since leaving London I have hovered just above and below minimum wage, volunteered a lot of time, been an 'apprentice' and gone freelance. I'm not really sure whether I had intended to do any of that, and on the most part I've made it work (thanks largely to a sojourn with my ever patient parents).

However, before Christmas it felt like I'd really cracked it. Working on the land, with adults and kids with disabilities - that's what I want, and feels like where I'm headed. So let's just start a charity, or a soc ent or whatever it turns into being. I bought a web domain, had offers from potential trustees, started looking into the laws, set up another voluntary project to support the studying I've been doing...

And then I crashed. With a vision in sight, for the first time in years a concrete and tangible focus. But maybe it was the big dream I was lost in, forgetting about the day to day steps. And forgetting that all along the way I need to look after my physical and emotional health, and that of those who mean the world to me. Living on substancially less that I have, pretty much ever, with the added pressure of being in a new town (which isn't the right town) has been tough.

So that is what I am doing now, taking a step back, checking where I am. Talking to others, and listening, not to judgements (and believe me there are a few), nor taking advice, but simply listening and adding it to my own reflections.

Then I'll look again at the next few steps, perhaps make a dream plan and leave it somewhere it's not going to consume my everyday.

Meantime, I'm going to write, climb, do more yoga, dance, and focus on me for a while.

http://mindapples.org/ - this is a pretty good place to start.

Two years on and stuck into nature

Two years ago this weekend, I waved a very wistful goodbye to my flat, friends and the city I loved. The aim: to get out into the country proper, not just a house in the shire, but a caravan on a farm, right in the mud, and to learn; to learn as much as I could about living from the land.

To my surprise the journey, which began in a shop in Dalston (or my Grandad's garden depending on your psychological outlook) has led me to focus on the health benefits of being outdoors and the nurture that our natural world offers to each and every one of us.

I have been fortunate enough to find myself working with some truly inspirational people, Sam Henderson who brought his ideas of agricultural renaissance into East London and has gone on to find his own farm, Tim Waygood who following a brush with pneumonia turned his family’s farm on its head and continues to struggle with the realities as passionate as ever, Ann De Bock who has started her own flourishing care farm, providing meaningful work opportunities to those with disabilities, Romy Fraser who has grand ideas for inspirational education training young adults for the future and is using her farm in East Devon to make this a reality, and last but by no means least Daphne Lambert who takes the time to not only listen to the rhythms of nature and cook up beauteous feasts, but also shares her understanding and the unending health benefits with those who take time to listen to her.

Now I am living in Devon, for real(!) it seems to be time to turn some of my meandering thoughts and consequent conclusions into practical action. Once again I find myself with several jobs, all serving a critical purpose; either financially, experientially or inspirationally, which I hope to be a helpful guide along the pathway. The goal is becoming clearer, and despite what some may fear; it has genuine purpose and is not just a guileless step away from the stresses of London. Next week I will begin a forest school practitioners course so that I can 'officially' play with mud and start fires, from there I will be leading workshops in a school for children with learning difficulties and challenging behaviour.



I'll leave the rest for now, I should think that the details will continue to develop quite organically in the coming year or two. But I am ever optimistic about the future and the places I might go :)

The hardest part

September 2012

I always knew that leaving the city wasn't going to be easy. London and I had come to a very relaxed way of living together and life was pretty settled before I left. It's been a year now and seemed a timely point to check on whether things were still heading the way I'd planned...

Of course they aren't, (the best laid plans, and all that) I didn't live out a full year on the farm and I'm no longer focussed on horticulture and not delivering veg into London. Once again I have two jobs to sustain my existence and might be living a tad beyond my means. Current plans are heading in the direction of a house, much less off grid and sustainable, rather prefabricated, space beyond my needs and a wee garden. 

This blog post is not intended as doom and moan, au contraire. I am working in a job I love, that brings together caring for people with working on the land. Not only do I have the benefit of working on the farm through the seasons, but now I see the profound impact it has on others. This has brought me to the realisation, finally that it certainly has been the 'right' risk for me to take. It has led me to a career I would never have imagined in which I am able to direct my enthusiasm for farming, the outdoors and craft (yay), in such a positive way as tools to care for and develop others.

A fundamental reason for escaping the city was to remove myself from the stream that was pushing me ever onwards, up that ladder of success. This year more than ever before, I feel that I have gone with the flow. I've tried really hard to go with what feels right, even when that goes against my predetermined expectations and natural decision making.

Right now, the lack of funds has become something of a worry. In an ideal world I'd follow the example so beautifully demonstrated by Kevin MacLeod recently and get my couple of acres, create a home that bears no impact and spend my hours working the land and with all it produces. However, I have confidence that each step I take in life moves me closer to my ideal and little by little, though that ideal might be ever shifting, I am realising my dreams.

Healthy Soil, Healthy People

To my much beloved and neglected blog

A post composed between January and March of this year, never published, perhaps through a fear that once I start to describe my stronger opinions I open myself up to critique... but do you know what? I really don't mind. This is a topic I think is of great importance, and critique can only deepen my own understanding through further questioning, so go ahead....

This blog isn’t intended to be an intellectual rhetoric or polemic. Just my thoughts and feelings as I immerse myself in a year farming, and the consequences of those reactions on my choices in life. I have refrained thus far from writing to seriously on the matter of food and farming however, I began to write a piece in early January just after I had been to a conference and listened to an inspiring talk on soil health. The talk focussed on the nutrient levels found within our land and consequential uptake of those passed on directly through our food system.

We are bombarded with information on diets and how we should eat in order to be healthy. In my household I was certainly aware of calories from a very young age, and later salt, cholesterol and now sugar have become important considerations for various family members’ wellbeing. Whilst at university I spent more time with people who considered natural remedies. Local honey for hayfever, plants rather than their chemically controlled extracts for common complaints – a controversial topic I know.

At a really basic level though I had never spent any significant time thinking about the carrot I was eating, for example, where it had grown, and what quality of soil it might be in. This now seems wondrous to me, what could be more important than the quality of the basic food we feed our bodies with. If I had to eat five carrots today to find the same nutritional value as someone in my family might have done fifty years ago there seems to be a problem somewhere. So why aren’t we all talking about this over the dinner table instead of how many weight watchers points our meals contain?

To those who may see this way of thinking as an old fashioned or hippy in its ideal I can affirm to you that the speakers at this particular talk were of established professional backgrounds, scientific, academic and more practical. A focal concern was that the present drive for yield and appearance neglects the mineral content of our produce.  The complex mix of nutrients required for healthy plant growth goes a long way beyond common agricultural fertiliser; and those artificial fertilisers often leave our land wanting, making farmers dependent on their use.

I have witnessed how difficult farming without chemical assistance can be, and I appreciate the grand scale of providing food for our population. However, I do feel that the quality rather than the quantity of the food we are producing and consuming is paramount to our own health. The word organic has a hundred negative connotations which I won't even begin to discuss here, but please consider what has gone into produce your fruits and vegetables, and what state the land they departed is in. We are after all a direct product of what we eat.

Week Twenty One - Taking a breath

It’s about time I squared up, I’ve been absent for a few weeks and from more than just the blog. The primary reason is losing a man who was so dear to me, integral to my outlook on life and part of my inspiration; namely by showing me the simple pleasures of growing food. I’ve allowed the grief to take me into all sorts of places; some incredibly hard, and others more productive, the most beneficial being a deep examination of why I’m here and what I hope to achieve from it. My Grandad had his own views on this particular farm which aren’t mine to share, but there was a healthy concern for me working so many hours for such little return on something ultimately belonging to and driven by somebody else. In his last few days he very openly said that he’d never seen me so happy and if the farm was the root of that, then it wasn’t so bad.

Spring is definitely an appropriate time to be taking stock.  Once again I find myself incredibly grateful to be so close to nature, literally in every moment I notice a new growth or a sound long forgotten; I’ve seen some birds that I’ve not glimpsed in years, and even a few completely new to me. The propagation tunnel is brimming with fresh shoots and the fields are coming into their own again. No longer do people walk around the farm, get to the edge of horticulture and turn around (a sight which always makes my heart a little heavy).  There are lambs bouncing around bleating and on more than a few occasions now my coats have all remained firmly in the porch, there’s even a little colour in my cheeks.

Still I find that life is not without its difficult moments. There is quite a contingent now of us who have been around 5 months or so, and I think there are moments where some (myself included) are becoming jaded. Not only are the days physically exhausting but the weeks are long, and much as I now have a fondness for this little village it doesn’t offer much in the way of light relief.  The great thing about Spring is that it presents the opportunity for many other forms of entertainment, and the additional daylight hour means things are suddenly looking brighter.

We’re now heading into week 21 and I’ve begun to settle into my place on the farm, finally. I’m a part of a strong horticulture team and am working hard to build up the number of people collecting our boxes in London. The future plan is becoming increasingly clear, and the next step is almost certainly to be yoga training with a view to this supporting my horticultural endeavours wherever they may take me. The bustle of London is a far cry and the yearnings are beginning to space out, though when I miss the city, it hits me hard. Still, I now have a birthday to look forward to, the bright lights of summer, and hopefully some time to get my sights back on track... and make my Grandad proud; enough of the update, now it’s time to kick into action.

Week Twelve - Quarterly Review

29^th January 2012

For the past 5 years my working life has been one of regular appraisals and objective setting. The nature of personal development in the office settings I’ve encountered compared to my current situation seems so alien. I am solely responsible for my personal development during my stay here. Rik is great and teaches and challenges us regularly, but he does this out of kindness rather than obligation. 

Church Farm isn’t against people gaining experience and learning, in fact quite the opposite, but it feels as though you have to take your initiative; go out and ask questions, research the things you want a deeper understanding of, and propose any challenges you would like to take on. It feels very much more open than the opportunities I’ve had previously, and so much dependant on personal desire and initiative. This seems a more organic way of learning than any I have experienced before, but I appreciate perhaps not one that would work for everybody, perhaps part and parcel of an internship? It is certainly a situation I’d like to replicate in the future when I hope to have developed my own experiences and knowledge enough to pass them on.

Now I’m afraid I have to offer a counter to this idyllic situation. It’s really hard! I’m often so tired that I don’t find the time to catch up with everyone I’d like to, I struggle to make the time to write this blog, and certainly to research it as much as I’d like to. I have lots of ideas of things I’d love to do and learn here, but not the time to develop them. In the evenings I find I’m often too physically exhausted to consider focussing my mind for long periods of time. My one day off each week follows the two days of box packing and delivering which means I’m so exhausted, unless I’m away I’ll sleep through half of it. If I am away in the morning I know I’ll be tired through the rest of the week. The tiredness is catching up with me in this my third month

However, several days a week I have a lovely period between finishing in the fields and going up to dinner which, when utilised, is perfect for all of this. I feel like I am growing to know and understand the needs of my body much more than ever before. I know how much sleep I need and when I need to rest (even if I don’t always do it). I eat fresh, seasonal and organic food every day so my body feels well from the inside out. The next few months have to be a time where I always consider how much rest I need, but make the time to start developing in all the ways I hope to.

This Sunday I’ve taken and afternoon off in lieu for the extra hours spent on the boxes. It feels hard to take this most of the time. We can’t have time off packing, it just wouldn’t be fair on the rest of the team, and I really don’t want to take hours away from horticulture. Every day is different and there is so much to learn four days a week sometimes doesn’t seem enough. This afternoon has felt like a very productive use of time; I’ve not only rested, I’ve read, written and somehow screwed my head back on after a few days (possibly weeks) of wandering and wondering.

So I suppose I have given myself an appraisal, without needing to have the approval of my line manager and adhering to a strict criteria and format laid out before me. So long as I keep checking on myself, I hope this is both a sensible, achievable and enjoyable approach. 

PS I don't quite have the lines that this photograph shows... but they won't be far off with all of this outdoor living :)

Week Eleven – catching my breath

17^th January 2012

                                     

As the tardiness of my latest blog post attests I have been busy in recent weeks, or at least focussing my attentions in the wrong places. My vow to myself in moving here was that I must make the most of my time, and part of that is making the time to write. As well as the blog I try to write a personal journal which ideally should help me to organise my feelings and monitor my emotions. Both have suffered in recent weeks, and though it is true to say that I am busy, I am no more so than I was before Christmas. If this is a confessional now, then I must tell you that a significant proportion of this time lag is due to the pub... as it is a part of the farm family I feel as though supporting it is good for us all... Really it just offers another time out, but one that ultimately takes it out of me rather than giving back.

So in this my eleventh (?) perhaps actually twelfth week I will make a public promise to myself to manage my time more effectively (perhaps I will encounter the same problems here I did in the city).  I started local yoga classes two weeks which I hope will go some way to keeping my mind and body in order. Despite what some may think my time on the farm is not a year out or an escape from life, it is important to me that my time is spent wisely and that at the end of a year I have something to show for it. I read about farming and the food system as often as I can and try to keep my plans for the future at the forefront of my mind making sure that this is all ultimately leading in the right direction.

And finally I suppose being less hard on myself for all of the above will ultimately be the kindest way to help myself to improve.