Saturday, March 13, 2021

A Pandemic Story

 “Never let a good crisis go to waste”- Winston Churchill

I'm up early and getting around to teach Oxen Driving at Tillers. It's one of my favorite, annual signs of spring.  One year ago, it was the last thing I did before the pandemic shut most everything down.  

It was hard. All of it. I'll spare you those details. You've got your own.

But, a year on from that weekend, my oxen are in much better shape than they were last march. As a driver, so am I. Not a little better in either case. Twice as good. Enough so that I am a little embarrassed about how bad we were then- and I would have said we were pretty good at that time.

What made the difference? Time for sure.  Tom Jenkins told me, "There's not too many problems that can't be fixed with more time in the yoke." The other x-factor is commitment to getting better. What Angela Duckworth calls "grit." Not some magical quality of internal drive, but more like dripping water that eventually wears away stone. The recognition that, with time and incremental progress, we'll get better- because it's important.

We still have our bad days, but dragging the pasture last night with Brutus back from a foot injury, they were good enough that it felt like cheating. I wasn't driving them, just working alongside them. In the state that Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls "flow."

Churchill may have been on to something. What's your story?


1 comment:

  1. I love cattle, and when I moved back to the land my family settled in Arkansas in 1833 before Arkansas became a state I decided to train a pair of my steers to pull, but I didn't know anyone who had steers that worked, so I got up a couple of weened steers and started taming them down.

    I eventually met 4 more old men that all had trained steers and we got to be friends and I found that training steers like you train horses or dogs is not necessarily the best way to train steers. I did get them broken and working pretty good but as the next set of steers came along I started with bottle babies and that worked better for me.

    And time passed and eventually I got old and my friends with working steers all died before me, so I am the last one standing at 74 years of age.

    There is never time enough to do everything you want to do, but I have done most of my bucket list and I just sent my last working steer to a petting zoo where he will be able to live out his life with good care and attention. Red is the MAN!

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