I’m feeling really good here at the farm. I was dirty, sweaty, covered in burs and bug bites after turning the compost and cleaning garden beds this morning. When I took my cold shower this afternoon, I left the window wide open and relished in the light and colors of the jungle while I stood there naked, simply loving the spray of icy mountain water all over my body and the freedom of not having to bother about privacy.  

I read in my book earlier  a profound section that made me pause, probably overwatering the patch of garden I was holding the hose over.  “Is the life I am living the life I most deeply desire? Is this it? We are each becoming something; that’s the crux of the human experience. The process of becoming a person. To be human is to change, to grow, to evolve. This is by God’s design. The question is not, am I becoming a person? The Question is who, or what, am I becoming? If you plot the trajectory of your life over the next 5 decades, what kind of person do you see on the horizon? Does the projection fill you with hope, or with dread?”

In that moment I thought yes, this is indeed the life I most deeply desire. This is simple, this is it. I am only here on this farm for the equivalent of a moment, and for the most part uncertain about the trajectory of my life any further than a month out from now. But I do see myself as becoming more and more the person God has designed me to be as I continue to learn, to adapt, to think, to share, to try, to become. I am overjoyed at the stories I have to tell, both the ones that will capture attention and the ones that only I will understand. 

This is interesting and beautiful and probably hard for anyone outside of this space to understand. My life, a series of snapshots that other people see as glamorous but I see as lightly chaotic, constantly evolving, and never quite logical, is good. It is good, and I will remind myself of this on the days that the colors aren’t shining so brightly.