Sunday, February 8, 2009

the sound of settling

Friday night I came home from work energized. I was uncharacteristically wound. Most week's end with me coming back to the cabin with a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude—happy to know I have some time to catch my breath and catch up with the farm. But for some reason, on that particular night, I was smiling and singing. I came into the house belting lyrics to the ipod, which had been cranked since I turned off my computer at the office and trudged down to the parking lot. The whole ride home I sang along with an old record. Transatlanticism was the culprit. A Death Cab album that has become quasi-nostalgia for people of my age and disposition. If that's fair to say? I think it is.

I crashed into the cabin, throwing on my dad's red plaid coat as I headed out into the night to tend to my scene. Between feeding, refilling water containers, and cleaning rabbit cages I found myself tapping my feet. As I moved from the sheep pen to the coop, I kinda swayed to the music, keeping up some jaunty steps with the beat. Soon after in the hen house, I was hitting my hips against the metal cans that hold the grains as I sang along with Ben. Within minutes I was flat-out bopping around, dancing by myself in the chicken coop, smiling like an idiot. I watched my long shadow stretch out into the snow from the glow of the heat lamp and when I realized there was two of us, kept dancing.

Sorry, but I just can't help myself when a band knows how to use a clap track. I was singing to the geese now, who eyed me suspiciously from their nest. When The Sound of Settling came on I got even more pumped. I started singing directly to the poultry. "...And I can't wait to go greeeey.." I laughed this at Cyrus, who incidentally already is grey and apparently isn't a Sub Pop fan. If geese could roll their eyes, Cyrus could've been one of the kids in The Breakfast Club. Since I don't owe my livestock explanations for my musical taste - I just kept my straw-floor dance party going strong. The geese did nothing to stop me. They are all talk. Honestly folks, If I ever did have any pride it died in the walls and rotted somewhere on the crooked road between Pennsylvania and Tennessee. Now, I dance in coops. And I dance with gusto. Ba baaaaa, ba baaaa.

Not that Friday night like these are exactly the envy of my peers. To the untrained eye I am a crazy person, possibly a fear-biter, spinning around a chicken coop singing backup to music no one else can hear. But hell guys, I'm happy. I'm happy to laugh and dance around my animals. I'm happy to come home from a job I like and feel like I was needed at said job. I'm happy to realize a whole weekend is ahead of me with friends, dinners, guitars, books, and fiddling. What more could I dare ask for?

It takes very little to make me content anymore. Maybe that's because of the farm, but I think it has a lot more to do with giving up on a lot of likes and dislikes, and letting go of what I consider good and bad. That's not some flippant comment on lacking morals, not at all. What I mean is I don't take changes in my life as positive or negative anymore. I don't assign them an emotion, I just let them happen. When something comes up I look at it logically, a long look up and down, and then act accordingly. It makes things better. By dropping my own stupid preferences I feel like I'm constantly winning some booby prize for social competence. I win by writing in my own loopholes, allowing myself to accept the things I can't have right now, regardless of how much I want them, and slowly planning a way to find them again later.

A perfect example being the border collie Sarah who had to leave. I couldn't have that part of my life now. That is just how things are. I can be miserable about it, or I can look forward to finding one again. Sometimes being content is a choice, and the only governing body is us. Right now I have this place and it fills me up with feathers, fur, wool and dorian chords. It's what I can have now. It's enough. I just let out a big ol' objective sigh.

Maybe that's the sound of settling?


Anonymous Anonymous said...

"If it isn't everything you want for the future, let it be enough tonight" Good words to live by.

- Joyce

February 8, 2009 at 11:26 PM  
Blogger s said...

this post made my morning. seriously, i woke up still tired and with a headache and just generally in a not so great mood. but i put on "the sound of settling" (my favorite dcfc song, by the way) on the way to work and it made a huge difference.

February 9, 2009 at 8:33 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

This entry made me grin. I love the visual of you dancing around in the chicken coop.

February 9, 2009 at 10:17 AM  
Blogger Mama Pea said...

If you believe in vibrational energy at all, you know you're doin' it right, girl. Whatever you put out, comes back to you. Just keep on doin' . . . and you can't miss.

February 9, 2009 at 11:34 AM  
Blogger Leiflet said...

i've had socially inappropriate dancing/singing moments before, and boy oh boy are they fun. Why is it still cool to be a cynic? They don't have any fun!!

February 9, 2009 at 4:06 PM  
Blogger Moon said...

Perhaps a "Dances with Chickens" t-shirt now? Love the mental image.

February 9, 2009 at 4:12 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Amen to that. My husband and I were just having a very similar conversation the other day.

Love the blog!

February 9, 2009 at 6:05 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'll buy a Dances With Chickens shirt. Long as it has old William on it. And maybe a banjo or a fiddle.

Very Buddhist. "There's nothing either right or wrong but thinking makes it so." and all that.

February 11, 2009 at 2:15 PM  

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