It’s been probably 15-20 years since I held a job that required a large amount of physical labor. And it’s been a long time since I’ve taken on something as big as the work I’m currently doing on the house/property. If I had taken this work on when I was still smoking, drinking , etc. then I don’t think I’d be able to do half of what I’ve done so far.
The Jungle Is Almost Tamed
It has taken a few days but weeding, trimming, cleaning, and mulching is almost at an end for this portion of the property (there are like 2 more huge sections to do but let’s not discuss that, lol). Because I’m not using heavy equipment, everything needs to be shoveled, transported, and spread by hand. The size of the mulch pile is daunting. Especially if I consider it might only be the first one I need to move.
There’s a youthfulness that I had lost. Or at least it was overshadowed by an older mentality that looked upon a task like this with skepticism or doubt. Would my body hold up? How long will this take? I’m not as fit as I used to be. Etc, etc etc.
With this task, those were no longer my focus. My focus was to move one cart load of mulch at a time. And over time it would add up to the whole pile and the whole job being done. Surprise, surprise. I am alive and my body isn’t crying out in pain. I also have about 2/3rds of the space mulched. Tomorrow will be the day I finish it off.
And the backyard hasn’t looked this nice in years (maybe even a decade).
When Did I Lose My Youth?
My wife bought me a shirt that appears in some of my pics of this 30 day journey. It says, “I’m not getting older, I’m becoming a legend.” It’s super cute and I love her for getting it for me. However, I don’t feel old in my brain while having felt old in my body. I think the split happened around my early 20’s when I opted for white-collar work, video games and a sedentary lifestyle. There’s a strange element within my professional life that trickled over into my personal life. I wanted to work as much as possible but at the same time I wasn’t in love with what I was doing. It was like self-torture. And to boot, I was opting for hollow physical activity. Running on a treadmill versus walking/running in nature. Lifting weights as opposed to lifting my kids at the park. Running myself down with the weekly grind and sometimes on Saturdays/Sundays so I wasn’t even energetic enough to take care of the home that shelters us and keeps us warm and loved.
These choices were conscious but they were based on very flawed logic. I even feel myself wandering back to these thoughts now. Just work and make money so you can pay someone else to do the work on the house/property. But a home is built by its’ inhabitants. Not someone contracted to build and maintain it for others. To me, that’s not a home. My grandparents house when I was young was built a lot by them. 60% of the house didn’t exist when they first purchased it. They made it a home. And they did it with their sweat and blood and passion.
My Home
Living with my in-laws in my wife’s childhood home, I always felt like an interloper. Like I was a guest and not a resident. It was nothing that they did. In fact, they went out of their way to make sure I was comfortable in the house. It was my hangup. And I’m certain it was my lack of contribution to what the home was. I would help here and there but quite often I was off working my professional job. I wasn’t paying attention to the place where I laid my head and helped to raise a family for over a decade.
All of that has changed. This is my home. And it took a very awful loss in our family’s lives to get to this point. But I’m here now. And I want to make everything I can out of this home. It has kept us safe. It has provided refuge when tragedy struck. It hasn’t let us down. Now it’s my turn to nurture and care for it.
DAY 20 IS DONE!!!! That’s 2/3rds of the way complete. 10 days left!
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