The catalyst.

by goatlove

This past summer a colleague, my nemesis actually, picked a fight with me.  What was the fight about?  No idea.  Though I’m certain it was something petty and meaningless.  Regardless, it was this fight that caused me to take a close look at my career choice at the time.  I was sitting behind a desk every day.  Answering phone calls and emails.  Putting up with corporate-boy-wonder bull shit.  I couldn’t be further from my dream as a headstrong teenager of skipping the undergraduate experience in favor of moving to New Zealand to become an outdoor educator.  Not to be ungrateful for the steady job I had, but what the heck was I doing?!

Later that summer, this is aught nine we’re talking about, I started to nurture interests in building and helping things grow.  Now, I’m not much of a green thumb (actually, I’ve killed every plant I’ve owned.  Including a cactus… wow, embarrassing), so the animal kingdom was going to have to fulfill the “helping things grow” desire.  It was around the time that this desire was planted that I was introduced to Jonas and Sam, now good friends.  Jonas was in the preparatory stages of building his house and Sam, I found out, owns goats.  Is that fate or what?!  (I don’t really believe in that kind of crap, but WHOA, kind of a huge coincidence there).  Somehow I charmed Jonas and Sam into letting me help them out with their hobbies.  I spent a few hours with each of them, cutting boards with Jonas and learning how to tug teats with Sam.  It was easier for me to fall in love with goats than a house. 

Every day I spent on Sam’s farm was a day of regeneration.  Thirty minutes from city sounds and my inbox, I felt like I was discovering how to breath deeply.  It sounds like I’m romanticizing the experience, but truthfully I loved every part of being on a farm – the chores, animals, smells, quiet, land, and sky.  Farming… I could get used to this.