Getting There

The power of boldness.

Today I just want to share some words which, when I read them recently, spoke to me.

Until one is commited, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans; that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves, too. Whatever you can do or dream, you can begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.

              --German writer and scientist Goethe

These words reminded me of how important it is to have confidence when you are following your dreams. Hesitating or doubting yourself gets you nowhere.

Chris and I have been talking a lot lately about our plans for the future, about our dream of owning our own family homestead off the beaten path. We are trying right now to step up our efforts to save money towards this goal, because we know that even though we may look pretty poor to the average person, and although we have a long way to go, virtually anything is possible if you have enough will power to actually do it.

This tree looked to me like it was reaching for the sky.

It might seem like we're fooling ourselves, but I don't think so. If we convince ourselves that we can do it--if we have enough courage--then we will do it. Maybe not tomorrow, but we will. "Boldness has genius, power and magic in it." We are trying to live by those words.

In the meantime, we will continue living a simple life here, learning and building up our skills, with faith that with enough determination, our dreams will come true.

I hope all my readers have dreams that they are working towards with boldness! I hope that a few people will leave a comment, and share with me what those dreams are. :)

Life and Nature.

I recently purchased a very worn and tattered paperback volume of poetry from the 1940s entitled "Anthology of Canadian Poetry." A few real gems in this book stood out to me, this poem in particular.

Life and Nature.

I passed through the gates of the city,
    The streets were strange and still,
Through the doors of the open churches,
    The organs were moaning shrill.

Through the doors and the great high windows
    I heard the murmer of prayer,
And the sound of their solemn singing,
    Streamed out on the sunlit air;

A sound of some great burden
    That lay on the world's dark breast,
Of the old, and the sick, and the lonely,
    And the weary that cried for rest.

I strayed through the midst of the city
    Like one distracted or mad.
"O Life! O Life!" I kept saying,
    And the very word seemed sad.

I passed through the gates of the city,
    And I heard the small birds sing,
I laid me down in the meadows
    Afar from the bell-ringing.

In the depth and the bloom of the meadows
    I lay on the earth's quiet breast,
The poplar fanned me with shadows,
    And the veery sang me to rest.

Blue, blue was the heaven above me,
    And the earth green at my feet;
"O Life! O Life!" I kept saying,
    And the very word seemed sweet.

--Archibald Lampman, 1861-1899

How wonderful it is sometimes to escape the crowds of the city and just spend some time in nature.

A Prayer for Womanhood.

I posted once before a poem by the American poet, Grace Noll Crowell. Here is another that I wanted to share, that I think is lovely. It's funny to think that when I was a teenager, I would have thought a poem like this dreadfully old-fashioned and out of date. At that age, I thought happiness and fulfillment would surely come to me from having a successful career. Now, in my early 30s, having experienced both the working world and the life of a mother and homemaker, I feel much differently, to say the least. Our home, raising our children, with my husband by my side, is where I find the greatest happiness--even if this home is a rental townhouse in the city instead of a quaint farmhouse. The love that exists between these walls is what matters.

A Prayer for Womanhood

God, give each true good woman
Her own small house to keep,
No heart should ache with longing,
No hurt should go too deep.....
Grant her age-old desire:
A house to love and sweep.
Give her a man beside her,
A kind man, and a true,
And let them work together
And love, a lifetime through,
And let her mother children
As gentle women do.
Give her a shelf for dishes,
And a shining box for bread,
A white cloth for her table,
And a white spread for her bed,
A shaded lamp at nightfall,
And a row of books much read.
God, let her work with laughter,
And let her rest with sleep.
No life can truly offer
A peace more sure and deep....
God, give each true woman
Her own small house to keep.

~Grace Noll Crowell~
~~~~~~1934~~~~~~

This I am today; that I will be tomorrow.

Many years ago I clipped a quote from a Reader's Digest magazine, by the American fiction writer Louis L'Amour. I taped it to our computer desk, and there is remains to this day. A few times I tried to remove it, but the tape wouldn't come off; perhaps that is just as well, because I think it holds an important lesson.

Up to a point a man's life is shaped by environment, heredity and changes in the world about him. Then there comes a time when it lies within his grasp to shape his life into the sort of thing he wishes it to be. Only the weak blame parents, their race, their times, lack of good fortune, or the quirks of fate. Everyone has it within his power to say, This I am today; that I will be tomorrow.

Personally, I do have days when I feel sorry for myself, when nothing seems to be going right, when it seems like all the odds are stacked against us and we'll never be able to reach our goals. And it's true, a lot of what is holding us back from seeing our dreams materialize isn't our fault at all. We have indeed had some back luck over the years, especially where employment is concerned. But, this excuse only works up to a point. After that point, we do have power to shape our lives. Even if circumstances make things difficult, they are never impossible. Sometimes a little ingenuity is required. But anything is possible, if you want it badly enough. Everyone can say "That I am today; that I will be tomorrow."

Anyhow, I thought I would share that little quote, because I like the way it gives me a little kick in the pants when I need it most. :)

Just a little quote.

I found this quote this morning, and I thought it was lovely and true. 

"The real things haven't changed. It is still best to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have; to be happy with simple pleasures; and have courage when things go wrong." — Laura Ingalls Wilder

Bloom where you're planted.

We have such big plans for the future, such exciting dreams, that sometimes it gets frustrating, being where we are. Sometimes I, at least, feel unpleasantly stuck. We, as a family, really do want to get ourselves a little farm, or a piece of land we can turn into a farm, and live a peaceful, quiet life of honest hard work and togetherness in the country. We enjoy sometimes looking at real estate listings online, and dreaming of all the fun we could have with each country property. Chris dreams of having a huge workshop where he can endlessly "tinker;" me, I dream of having a big garden and fruit orchard, and some chickens; and the kids love the idea of having lots of room to roam, maybe even a nice big tree house in the back yard--maybe even a pony!

Yet, here we are, a family of five living in a condo townhouse in the city, with a tiny back yard. We even operate our home business out of this little place. We're cramped, to say the least. And sometimes it's hard to stay positive when realistically, it will be many years before we can afford to purchase our piece of land. We have debts to pay first, and a business to build. Sometimes...sometimes we feel a little bit sorry for ourselves that our dreams feel out of reach.

At these times, I try to remember the following saying:

Bloom where you're planted. 

Short and simple, but that phrase says a lot. Even though we aren't exactly where we'd like to be, we can still "bloom," even in our little house in the city. In fact, when I think about it, it's probably a good thing that we are here, because as I learn new skills, like growing potatoes or canning jam, my mistakes are likely to be on a smaller scale. Really, we are just starting out on this journey of self-sufficiency, and still have a great deal to learn. Perhaps learning the things we need to know gradually, while we are here, will enable us to have a greater chance of success when we do find ourselves out in the country, because we won't need to have so sharp a learning curve.

There are still plenty of ways "city folk" can be more self-sufficient. Some skills we have learned or are currently learning: sewing, knitting, carpentry, growing vegetables, baking bread...my husband has also taught himself how to play the guitar, for that blissful day someday when we will find ourselves collected around the firepit out back, listening to the crickets chirp and singing together...

Some skills we are soon going to learn: canning jam and pickles, harvesting and storing potatoes, making sourdough bread, making more of our food and condiments from scratch...

It really is possible to be an urban homesteader...perhaps not us, not really, with our tiny yard...our condo definitely wouldn't let us keep chickens, as they won't even let us hang laundry outside! But we can still do a lot, still learn a lot, still bloom where we are planted. We can be happy and enjoy life wherever we are.

Before I end this post, I'd like to direct my readers to Little Homestead in the City, the blog of a family who has taken urban homesteading to the next level--they grow enough food on their 1/10 acre lot to feed themselves, and have enough left over to sell to local restaurants! Their amazing achievements are very inspiring to those of us who feel like farmers but find ourselves surrounded by the concrete jungle.

And lastly, I would like to ask my readers a question. I know some of you do live in the country, but for those of you in the city--do you consider yourself an urban homesteader? If so, please share some of the things you're doing in the city to be more self-reliant. I'd love to know! :)

I Have Found Such Joy.

Isn't it strange sometimes, how just as soon as you learn about something, it starts popping up everywhere? This happened to me recently. A few weeks ago I saw a poem by the American poet Grace Noll Crowell on someone's blog. I loved it, and I printed it out to put on our fridge. Since then, I have seen her poems on several different blogs...they are all lovely and they seem to speak to the place I am in my life right now. 

Grace Noll Crowell, born in 1877, was a very popular writer in the United States in the first half of the 20th century. She wrote poems, devotions, and books for children. I am currently trying to locate online somewhere a copy of the her last printed "best of" collection--it seems to be very rare however and almost impossible to find. I think it's sad that such a wonderful poet would not still be in print. But I suppose most modern publishers would consider her too old fashioned. What a shame.

~I Have Found Such Joy~

I have found such joy in simple things;

A plain, clean room, a nut-brown loaf of bread

A cup of milk, a kettle as it sings,

The shelter of a roof above my head,

And in a leaf-laced square along the floor,

Where yellow sunlight glimmers through a door.

 

I have found such joy in things that fill

My quiet days: a curtain's blowing grace,

A potted plant upon my window sill,

A rose, fresh-cut and placed within a vase;

A table cleared, a lamp beside a chair,

And books I long have loved beside me there.

 

Oh, I have found such joys I wish I might

Tell every woman who goes seeking far

For some elusive, feverish delight,

That very close to home the great joys are:

The elemental things-- old as the race, 

Yet never, through the ages, commonplace.

 

Grace Noll Crowell

What does "simple living" mean to you?

Creating this blog has truly been an interesting experience for me. The subtitle "moving towards a simple, beautiful life,"  has forced me to think often about what a simple life really is, at least to me and my family. And the strange thing is, that the more I ponder this question, the more I feel rather confused. Today I am going to try pinning down what a simple life means to me.

In this April post I discussed Henry David Thoreau's passage from Walden, where he writes that he wanted "to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms," and that he "did not want to live what was not life." When I read these words, I think of embracing a basic, fundamental form of living--shrugging off all the excess complications of modern society, and instead living in harmony with the land and the seasons, rising with the sun, growing one's own food, enjoying the company of family and friends, staying close to home. This type of life that I picture seems to me to be the way people have lived for hundreds, even thousands of years, before modern technology changed our basic patterns of life.

Owen and Kira preparing the soil for our vegetable garden.

Further on in the same passage from Walden Thoreau writes:

Our lives are frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb nail.

In other words, we need to eliminate those frivolous details that can easily take over our lives today, simplify our daily lives, and focus only on the things that really matter.   

Of course, I am not saying here that I think we should eliminate all modern technology from our lives. Some of it is quite nice--the Internet, for example, which allows me to befriend interesting people from all over the globe. But I feel that there is too much of everything today, too many things, too many voices, and too many activities available to us, and I think we need to be selective about what we allow into our lives. We need to eliminate those things that are not truly beneficial to us. I believe we would be better off if we did not accept all aspects of modern life with open arms--especially the consumerist idea that says possessions bring happiness--but instead made decisions about what we need and want mindfully and deliberately.

People speak of the times 100 or 150 years ago as "a simpler time." Life was more basic back then. Life was harder in many ways, and so people had to know how to take care of themselves, and each other. Families stuck together, and communities were stronger. People did not depend on corporations far away for their food and belongings, but instead knew how to grow their own food, sew their own clothes, make their own soap. And if they didn't know how to do something, someone down the street did. This is the type of life I want for myself and my family. A quiet, honest, genuine existence, that may sometimes be difficult, and on the surface may not always be "simple" at all, but it always a satisfying life. A good life. 

Owen helping me to plant a tomato seedling.

So to sum up, to me the simple life means shrugging off the elements of modern society that are not truly necessary or beneficial--paring out the excess activities, entertainments, and possessions we don't truly need--and instead focusing more on the ways of the past, which means living a more traditional, meaningful life in harmony with the nature, doing more things for ourselves, and nurturing family and community relationships.

To close, I would like to quote the 19th century American naturalist John Burroughs:

To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter... to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring - these are some of the rewards of the simple life. 

How true. What does "the simple life" mean to you? Please, leave a comment and share your thoughts. :)

One stitch at a time, taken patiently.

I can't remember exactly where I first saw this lovely quote--I think it may have been in Amanda Soule's first book, The Creative Family. It's by Oliver Wendell Holmes, a 19th century American poet and author:

Take your needle, my child, and work at your pattern--it will come out a rose by and by. Life is like that...one stitch at a time, taken patiently. 

How much wisdom is contained in those few words! Life is like that...one stitch at a time, taken patiently.  Indeed. We all have so many things we want to do, so many places we want to go--both literally and figuratively--that sometimes it becomes discouraging when reaching these goals feels so far away. But, if we just quietly, patiently, keep working towards our goals, one stitch at a time, one step at a time...we'll reach them.

I myself am guilty of often being impatient. I find it difficult to do "slow" work like sewing or embroidery because it feels like it's going to take forever. I've given up on more than one project for this very reason. And where larger goals are concerned, like our dream of owning our own homestead--well, sometimes it seems like it's going to take us so long to achieve it that we might as well give up right now. But this is the wrong attitude to have. Almost anything is possible if we work hard and don't give up over the long haul.

One stitch at a time, taken patiently...The image above is of a tablecloth my grandmother gave me, that was embroidered (I believe) by my great-grandmother--one stitch at at time. How long does it take to embroider a whole tablecloth? I remember my grandmother creating beautiful smocked dresses for my sisters and I when we were very small. She even made a fancy smocked dress for my Cabbage Patch doll! And my mother as well used to sew many of our clothes when we were young. Then we get to me--and I struggle with having enough patience to sew anything fancier than a hankie. I wonder if I am the only one with this problem? Perhaps many of us today are feeling rushed by the hectic pace of life, and find it difficult to really slow down.

I think I am going to place that quote somewhere where I can see it. I think it contains a good lesson for me. I need to slow down. Breathe. And get to work. One stitch at a time. The rose I'm working towards will show itself in good time. :)

(Tomorrow I'll be talking about Digital Detox Week--it proved to be a very interesting experiment!)

Specialization is for insects.

A little while ago I came across this quote by the science fiction writer Robert A. Heinlein:

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.  Specialization is for insects.

Is that great or what? I couldn't agree more. In our modern age, jobs have become so specialized that many people only ever become really good at one or two things. Furthermore, the proliferation of convenience products on store shelves enable us to get along without any sort of proficiency in even basic skills, like cooking or scrubbing a floor. But human existence can and should entail so much more than a narrow life of going to work, coming home and popping some food into the microwave. We are all capable of so much more.

Part of my reason for wanting to achieve "the simple life" is my desire to learn many new skills. Not only for their useful purpose, but for the sheer fun of it. A few of the skills I want to learn in 2010: sewing clothing, knitting a hat, canning tomatoes and homemade jam, growing potatoes, making sourdough bread, growing bean sprouts, and drying herbs. 

I'd love it if some of my readers would share what new skills they are planning to learn this year! :)