I wrote this a few days ago and it has been sitting in my scheduled posts since. It is amazing what clarity the written word will give sometimes. I now have a renewed appreciation for our choices, and the simple life.
Like many young Australian families, we are still paying off the mortgage for the home we live in. Mr Meagre and I started rather late, and because of that we have only just begun the lengthy journey past our mid-30’s.
A typical spring harvest of plant-and-forget garlic and carrots.
We are three years into the mortgage and most days it feels so slow… like a winding road so tight you cannot see the end of it even if you tried. Being an obsessive planner by nature, I like having my goals listed down. Ticking any list, or seeing any “percentage complete” figure has to be right up there in the happiness spectrum for me. It is weirdly normal for me to have many goals, some of which are very long term (for example, our financial goals 30+ years from now).
However, since “meeting” Rhonda I have been trying to simplify my life. I still remember reading her first book for the first time; that list I came up with about my life goals is still being revisited nearly everyday. Part of living simply, to me, was and still is being happy with what I have and making the most of what and where I am. “Bloom where you are planted,” as Rhonda would say.
The first fruits off our PeachCot tree that has been in the ground for two years.
Which brings me to the question that has been bugging me for the past few months. Does simple mean being content with our current home and not desiring to move anywhere else? If I dream of owning a farm “someday”, am I still being true to my simple values? I love trees — I like seeing them grow, and to me the best trees are the big mighty ones with trunks so wide there is no way to put your arms around them… Where we are now, it is impossible to plant those so I content myself with dwarf netted trees in all sorts of espalier and I keep them pruned to within an inch of their life.
But this “content-ing” of myself, is it not me cheating? When I tell myself, I shall do this when the backyard is bigger… or, if only I had the space I would do this or that… That kind of thinking, to me, is definitely not blooming where I am planted. Or is it? This is the best place for us at the moment, I am sure, so should I just spend my days bunkering down and start blooming? Is my dreaming putting a damper on my happiness, and preventing me from living my life the way I should? Do I need to come to terms with the fact that my values are not what I thought them to be?