The beginning is nigh

As this strange summer draws to a seemingly premature close I have become increasingly eager to hang up my social work hat and put on my gardening boots, and I feel this momentous junction in my life is fast approaching. Although I have harboured anxieties about this brave move to self-reliance, the last few months have made me realise many of these fears are just fallacies. More than ever I am understanding, not only the importance of making this transition, but the fundamental need.

After the eerie lull of the Covid lock-down it’s ended up being a busy end to the summer, with friends and family all cramming in visits to make up for precious lost time. So much so, that I have found it difficult to find time for the various projects on the go (including this diary), and have spent far more time explaining my plans to people then actually progressing them. Although I have felt frustrated by the lack of physical progress, it has at least allowed me the opportunity to show people our plans and share thoughts and ideas around my prospective new career, and this has been enlightening. This discourse has made me realise how enthusiastically and creatively I am speaking about my new "work" and this has in turn bolstered my self-esteem, and it's got me thinking about the workplace, and how it can become a weight on your spirit. In my case, although I have gained a great deal from my job over the years, I have realised a change is necessary to satisfy my true passions and align myself to a more authentic identity - and my soul needs it. Moreover, although this realisation came with fears that my propensity to be withdrawn, insecure and lacking in confidence was in danger of becoming amplified without the forced daily human interactions of a busy office, the sudden and premature absence of the workplace setting due to the corona-virus pandemic has made me realise this is not necessarily the case. In fact, I have now come to reason that the workplace for many is incredibly counter productive in terms of developing confidence and a sense of agency, especially if you are unconvinced about your underlying purpose and the job doesn't enthuse you - and this situation is not uncommon. This path is only likely to result in years of artificial and staged interactions, which are insincere and unfulfilling - and this is just not good for you. Although this does not fully embody my situation, and may not embody yours, I wonder if we can all take aspects of truth from this when reflecting on the humdrum of the rat-race, the jobs we undertake and the aims we seek to achieve. Maybe the economical restraints we think trap us are not so powerful after all, and we should make more efforts to try and explore if there is a viable and more rewarding alternative? Perhaps the security and normality of a 9-5 is actually making you feel insecure and abnormal? I guess these were some of the questions I grappled with, and the answers all contributed to this change. I can certainly see the broad ways in which this shift has benefited me and the family. To this continued aim, and despite the summers distractions and digressions, I have still managed to keep the projects moving on, and Gwalia in particular has really started to come together, with many of the rooms now nearing completion. This old gem of a building is really showing its colours, and I am now able to visualise its potential as holiday accommodation.

Back at the Smithy, I have made some gradual progress with the market garden and erected the sheep proofing fence around the location of the first set of permanent beds, a job I really enjoyed. I have also continued various minor infrastructure jobs around the land, and my focus on recycling has produced a useful Bilbo Baggins handrail made from fallen branches, and a patio fashioned from borehole silt and a few bags of concrete.

Although the market garden is my primary passion, it's been difficult to progress this aspect of the plan, as so much of my spare time is consumed by Gwalia and my ongoing "day job". On top of this, I also lack funds to acquire equipment such as compost, tools, seeds and polytunnels. I feel trapped in a classic case of catch 22, in that I know I need to cease my social work career, so I can commit wholeheartedly to the market garden and holiday lets and get them earning, but also know the lack of stable earnings in the interim makes this simply unfeasible at this point in time. I sometimes daydream about a sudden windfall of cash and the endless possibilities, but usually conclude this would just unnaturally accelerate the transition and dilute the challenge, leaving me slightly less prepared for the next one. I want to be set free, but I am also comfortable with this gradual struggle and the pace this sets. Another area of progress, if not physically, has been the glamping plans. After much deliberation, we have become satisfied that a single low-key "boutique" bell tent is the best option, and accounts for our desire to keep the impact minimal, and the set-up costs low. After living with the site for several months, we have developed a feeling for the space and, for the time being at least, feel any significant infrastructure developments would be detrimental, and the strategy needs to embody the natural and earthy nature of the location. This sentiment is echoed with the market garden, where we feel access issues can be managed through better laid out pathways, rather than expensive and unsightly vehicular tracks, and I am still young enough to use my legs. Indeed, the approach of gradual observation, championed in permaculture design and discussed in one of my previous posts Smallholding design: permaculture, nature and the importance of observation, has proven fundamental in evolving our plans and getting things right. Again, I sometimes wonder about that daydream of a windfall of cash, and how it may have encouraged rash, unnecessary and unconsidered decisions, before the land had its chance to communicate some wiser and more contemplated suggestions. One thing I am certainly learning more and more, is the importance of sitting, looking and reflecting and how the lack of money can encourage this, and such wisdom may help enthuse others who feel constrained by their absence of funds. The real value is in the time to think. As we move towards the atmospheric and sentimental days of autumn, my primary goals are to complete the renovations on Gwalia and start letting it out, submit the plans for the bell tent, form the first raised beds in the market garden ready for some late autumn planting, and establish the fruit orchard with some bare root trees. Things are moving on.