On the farm, it's easy to shut the world out. We have worked hard to make this place a sanctuary for ourselves and our animals. We can spend whole days busy with our projects, caring for the animals, talking about our plans and never once get in the car and drive anywhere or see anyone. It's our way of coping. We have reached a point in life where we understand that life can be cruel, but the special kind of madness where people wreak havoc on other people (war, crime, corporate greed, politics, bullies) is beyond our control and ability to accept. How do we process that it isn't safe to take your family to see a movie, or go to a mall or send our children to school? How can we function with that knowledge? It isn't possible. It isn't logical. We can't live in constant fear, and yet, we need to fear everything. Even our food is poisoned. So what can we do? How do we move on?
I'm not sure about everyone else, but here is what we do.
Little by little, time passes. That's it. That's how we get by. A little homesteading therapy goes a long way toward our mental and emotional health. Even as it feeds our bodies, it is healing our souls. We seek out the solitude of the farm, as a break from the things we can't control in our world. It gives us hope. It calms our nerves. It makes us smile again.
In the coming days and weeks we will be inundated with information, more than we need to know, about the tragedy that happened in that small school in Connecticut. It won't help us grieve the innocent lives lost. Only time can do that. And, maybe, a little homesteading therapy.
Our hearts and prayers go out to the families of the victims, the children who survived and will forever remember this horrible day, and to the teachers and first responders who will never be able to erase the images from their minds. Sweet babies, may you rest in peace.