Notes from Goats: Time

Time. I remember one of the first Radio Lab episodes that I listened to about cities. They discussed the metabolism and speed of cities. The more dense a city the faster the individual people are likely to talk and walk and consume. And personally, I have recognized this phenomenon as a true Midwesterner conducting interviews with East Coasters. To transcribe, I slow the audio recording as much as possible and in the end I sound drunk and the interviewee almost sounds Minnesotan. This is no offense to Minnesota. Nor is it to the East Coast. The truth is time and speed seem to work different in different contexts.

Stacia and I have recognized this on recent vacations to big cities, but also when we host visitors. We have acclimated to the rural speed. Time feels unique in Hancock. It is slow and steady. There is always a long list of things to do, but the entire day to do them. There is no work life, personal life, school life. It all just weaves together to structure the day. One hour with the goats, one hour lunch with your partner, one hour walk with the dog...and on and on. No stereotypical routine per se, but a similar structure from the same strands forming unique configurations throughout the week. Another comparison might be Mexican food....but I thought it might not be quite as poetic. Maybe I was wrong...

Last week, I had the honor of hosting a dear friend (dare I say honorary sister), Danielle and her partner, Anna. We shared our routine with them. We tended the goats, watched movies on the projector, made big homemade dinners, ran on the pond with Chance, tromped up a mountain just to take in the view, and read/worked in between. Naturally, the routine changed a little bit. It wasn't my most productive work weeks, but... For the most part, however, we went through the days slowly, simultaneously checking things off a list and enjoying the process. Slow and steady. Tortoise style. At times, I felt that I should provide more entertainment. Then, I would conclude that our slow routine days are likely entertaining by novelty for any visitor.

Historically, I find myself trying to catch up, stay in front, and race for the finish line. A competitive human obsessed with goals, finish lines, and success. And on top of all that, I was proud to be that way. Presently, I am learning and giving into an alternative way of life. I way of life without silos, without a rush to the end, and without the prioritization of ingrained, capitalistic goals. Instead, I am trying to embrace integration, the process, and personal wellness. It seems to be working because I feel more at peace trusting the slow and steady-a pace that lets me make time for good friends to visit, magical hikes with hidden surprises, genuine appreciation for hand crafted meals, heart wrenching snuggles with a sweetheart dog, and repetitive cycles of thrilling hello's and extended goodbye's with my partner. There is still room for dedication towards external goals, but those efforts don't need to be all-consuming.

Spring is coming. People are emerging for activities. Excitement is attached to the warm sun rays. Mostly, I find myself opening up to these new people, activities, and responsibilities. However, I intend to hold on to the slow steady appreciation of my surroundings that this winter has cultivated. And please, don't hesitate to visit! But be prepared to integrate with a good book, a long walk (accompanied by the animal of your choice-dog or goat), extended dinner escapades, and on-call goat demands.

Best,
K xo