Years ago, I corresponded with a psychic from London. At the time, I thought about going into social work, and I asked her if that was the direction I was meant to go in. The answer I got back was that I would end up working to help people, because by the time I got to it the system would be so broken that it would need me. After years of struggling with my own mental health issues, I decided perhaps it would be too hard on me.
Then came a calling to ministry a few years later, which I still believe is a calling I’m supposed to heed. However, Pagan ministry is obviously not an easy calling, and originally my thought on Unitarian Universalist ministry has long since passed due to problems within their system I simply couldn’t endure.
In all my time, in everything I’ve wanted to do with my life, it’s always been about helping people. I’m rocked down to my very core by the urge to help, to teach, to lead by example on a regular basis.
The beginning of the year began with questions about my future. Astrologically, I’m coming to the last part of my Saturn Return, and I turn 30 in September. It disturbed me that, having always been a very goal-oriented person, I suddenly found myself with very vague goals that had no way to build upon them.
Things shifted in February, though. I have a baker’s dozen posts half-finished about my life and trying to make sense of it all starting from January and running until just last week. I’m still trying to make sense of where the journey has led me and the journey itself, but in April things slowly started to clear for me. The weird compulsions and vague ideas started cementing into something solid – Specifically, I began thinking that perhaps I was meant to be a farmer.
At the beginning of May, I received a link in a newsletter pointing me to an amazing educational opportunity – One that would help me build a business plan for a farming venture and get out into the world to see how others are running farms throughout the country. It’s virtually free for me to take these classes, travel both in and out of state, and get feedback on my plans for a business.
For 24 hours, I agonized over putting in an application or not. I talked to my loved ones about this chance and applying. My friend, Daniel, put it a little into perspective for me – If this is what I’m meant to do, despite openly admitting to having virtually no practical knowledge at this point, I’d get in. So I put in my request to the Gods – If farming is what I’m meant to do, please let me get into this program so I know.
That night I sent in my application. The next day I got a note saying I’d hear back when the deadline at the end of May had passed. I went about my business learning what I can and signing up for a few extra classes during that time, because I saw no point in missing out on them in the event I got into the program. There’s been a lot of dreaming things up and keeping my hands in the dirt.
I worried. And I fretted. Then I would chastise myself over worrying and fretting, which is really just doubting that you’ll be provided for. And all the while I kept talking to the Gods, saying I needed a clear sign of purpose. I’ve wanted to do a lot in my life, but at this age I find myself getting more worried about actually doing something.
Things rolled in and out of the information I was getting. A lot of articles on food ethics and the opinions of farmers in Roman society kept coming up. The deadline passed by, and I started feeling a deep anxiety in the pit of my stomach. What if I wasn’t accepted? Then what? Was it just a hurdle to jump, and should I apply later? Should I keep on this path? How the heck did I even get to this point? I checked my email with the nervousness of waiting for the call back after a first date, and I started scurrying out to my mailbox just in case they sent me information through mail.
So two Tuesdays ago, I couldn’t take it anymore. I went outside, looked up at the sky, and said aloud (I never say anything aloud!), “I can’t take this anymore. I have to know if I was accepted or not. Please, I’m begging you, just let me know if I got in or not. I’ll go from there.”
I came inside. I wandered around a little. I got a soda, and I sat down to check my email. According to Mr. NaW, the sound I made at that point was a cross between a final breath and a cow giving birth. The email was sitting there in my mailbox. I’d been accepted. I’d gotten my answer. The Gods are kind and good!
More on this later… The hows, whats, etc. I’m just sick of writing 15 pages and then not publishing them for everyone to see. It’s one in the morning, so I guess this is just Part One.