On Finding a Balance Between Work and Play

So much of my homesteading life revolves around the things I do: planting, gardening, critter care, milking, mulching, compost making, harvesting, preserving, cheesemaking, pasture improvement, fence repair, lifestyle documentation, and of course (my least favorite) housework. Then there is the long project list Dan and I are working on: swale digging, hugelkultur making, and building projects such as repairing and upgrading our 100-year-old home and our greenhouse. My days are very busy but at their end, I feel like I’ve been productive. I have no complaints; I love my life.

With finishing one more room to create my sewing room, however, I’ve rediscovered a dilemma I haven’t felt in quite awhile. Currently, I’m still going through all the boxes of equipment and supplies that I’d stuffed into storage. They are getting unpacked now, and I’m trying to find permanent homes for everything. I feel good that I can finally do this, and it feels constructive to unpack boxes, sort, clean, and organize their contents. But now I find myself conflicted. Where am I going to find the time to reconnect with the activities I love? I have so much fun when I’m engaged in sewing, or spinning, or weaving, that it doesn’t feel like work. And then I start to feel guilty because I have too much to do! How can I waste time having so much fun! 

 In his One-Straw Revolution, Masanobu Fukuoka says, 

“If natural farming were practiced, a farmer would also have plenty of time for leisure and social activities within the village community. I think this is the most direct path toward making this country a happy, pleasant land.”

I contemplate this as I look around our homestead and add another item to our perpetual to-do list. ‘I’m not there yet,’ I tell myself. But then I have to ask, when, if ever, will I get there? I’m gradually coming to the conclusion that at some point, I’m just going to have to do it. But how do I do it without feeling guilty for neglecting “needful” things? I’m realizing that I have to address several things. One is how I define words, the other is how I spend my time.

Of words, I have to ask, how am I defining “successful” homesteading? And how am I defining “work” and “play”? Why do I think that play is fun and work isn’t? Or that if something’s fun, then it’s a waste of time? It’s odd that I should think that way, really, because I do enjoy working outdoors. I enjoy working in the garden, with the goats, and making and preserving lovely things to eat. I don’t even mind cleaning out the barn because I know that each thing I do serves multiple purposes toward land stewardship. Equally incongruent in my thinking is the fact that my textile and fiber pursuits always produce something functional: clothing, socks, sweaters, hand towels, scarves, blankets, etc. I think part of my problem is that because I can source these things so cheaply (often the thrift store) that it’s time indulgent to make them myself.

This train of thought led to analyzing how I spend my time, especially in summer, our busiest season. In summer, my mornings are for the garden, before it gets too hot. When I come in, I take a break because I’m hot and sticky myself. Then I make lunch and it’s on to afternoon activities: canning, dehydrating, and cheese making. Yet, I have wait times with these activities. I need to stick around, but when the timer is on, I have a free bit of time. 

And that led to looking at how I spend that free time. Usually, I sit down at the computer. In analyzing my computer time I can identify much of it as constructive, but much of it is spent engaged in distractions. I say I feel guilty for doing something I really enjoy, yet how much time do I just piddle away? Isn’t that time I could spend engaged in other ways?

I also spend a large chunk of my time writing. It’s a time consuming task for me. Publishing all those books was a lot of work. Actually, so is blogging, because it takes me time to communicate clearly. On the one hand, my homestead blog is valuable as a journal. Dan and I refer to it often for things I’ve documented. But somehow, when my blog and my books became somewhat popular, I put an obligation on myself to produce X amount of content in X amount of time. Now, after fourteen years of homestead blogging, our lives follow a comfortable seasonal routine, which means I’m often repeating myself when it comes to blogging topics.

Another thing I’m realizing is that I’m not very good at “picking my battles.” My example is our ongoing problem with bermuda grass in the garden and horse nettle in the pastures. Every summer I work hard to try and defeat the stuff, but every year it wins anyway. Perhaps I’m struggling with things that aren’t in my power to change. And then I have to acknowledge that my argument for feeling productive is undermined because losing battles isn’t productive, it’s discouraging. 

Conclusion? I need a plan of action. There may be more but to start, I’ve hit on a couple of things that I think will help.

Routine. Working with livestock, I’ve learned that routine is my best friend. They are so much more cooperative when they know what to expect, and I like not having to figure out when I’m going to do something. Routine sets the framework for my day. The next step was looking at how I was using the rest of my time. 

Blogging. Blog when I have something to document, not according to a schedule. I’m not sure that I’ll blog any less, but it will be freeing. I may even end up blogging more, because I’ve republished my fiber journal and am finding all kinds of things to blog about, now that I’m getting back into the textile arts groove.

Anybody still with me? I know I’m not the only one who struggles with finding balance in their lives. I think I’m fortunate that I can pretty much set my own schedule, but I suspect the process is similar for other schedules. So much of it is about habit. I’m finding that in rethinking my habits, I’m starting to find the balance I’ve been longing for.