There’s an unexpected disconnect living in our new home. We don’t have internet and the phone reception is very poor which has resulted in a sort of stepping away. It’s twenty minutes into town and quite a few locals think we live in the boondocks… without modern firms of communication it can feel that way.
As I sit in my favourite chair I realise how things which were once so normal, when taken away, can easily take you back to a simpler time of life. For instance, I used to listen to news radio most of the day, always up to date and able to connect with people. I’d listen to composers and Richard Glover, news on the hour and fascinating discussions. Now, I have little idea of what is happening, not only I. Our town but also our nation, our previous home, in the lives of friends and in the wider world. Part of the result is the fore-mentioned disconnect, the other though is a marked decline in my anxiety. While there’s no question of my going off the anti-anxiety medication I take, I don’t feel the need for it in the way I have, especially over the past 6 months. The difference between anxiety and excitement is easier to discern as our lives get smaller and we have less noise in our world. I’m tired and busy but less plugged in to things outside of my immediate vision.
We hosted our first large dinner party of friends this weekend and even had the joy of a dear couple staying the night. It was a joy to show them around our little property and also be encouraged by them as they saw our vision. I was taken by surprise at the comments on how much we’ve achieved in the two weeks we’ve been here – and am dearly thankful for their insight. I feel we’ve got so much to do, and with paid work taking such a lot of my time, I see all that hasn’t been done. Decisions which haven’t been made (like where to plant the vegetable garden or the orchard) and jobs like our autumn planting or beef calves too distant on the horizon.
The disconnect is hard though. Too many emails, letters and texts remain unanswered. The weight of that is heavy as I look into another week with little space. As I watch the sunset through our window though, thankful for all we have my heart is still glad and I’ll book myself into a coffee shop with WiFi this week to connect.
P.s. this post feels rather disconnected in flow as I write. I’ve mislaid my computer on which words flow easier as I type at the pace of my thought and can review easier. Sorry! I might fix it up when I get internet again 🙂