Nothing to Prove

A recollection of a misplaced conversation popped into my head the other day. It was lunch time banter with a former co-worker who I didn’t know much about and hadn’t worked with for very long. I recall them telling me about their work history in a somewhat forceful way. It started with the declaration- “I’ve always been a worker, ever since I was 13…” I listened and acknowledged the history lesson but didn’t feel the need to share a personal antidote. It wasn’t until later contemplation that I wondered what prompted the speech.

It was one of two things or a combination of both. Either there was a perceived insecurity surrounding this person’s dedication to work that they were hoping to dispel, or it was for my benefit to prompt me to reflect on if I was as hard a worker as I believed myself to be.

Had I been paying closer attention I might have felt compelled to share more. A good counter to this is always explaining that I grew up in a family business. I don’t think I ever got the choice to be or not to be a “worker.” You just were. Your life was fit around the needs of the business. But we were also surrounded by a farming community where most kids had similar work ethic helping on their family farms, so this wasn’t anything I ever thought would need mentioning. Or justification.

The truth is-

I didn’t feel any urge to contribute my own experiences when the topic arose because at 40 some years old I don’t feel like I have anything to prove.

I’m proud of my work history.

Proud of every job I have had and the titles that have come along with them.

When I was in my 20’s there wasn’t anything I didn’t think I could have in life if I just worked hard enough to get it.

By the time I was 30 I was remodeling a 100 year old foreclosure that was a total gut job to be our forever home. It was a dream of mine.

By my mid 30’s I was finding the toughest life lesson is accepting some of the things you might want the most are not things you can go to school for, or work longer hours to get, or ever have enough money to buy.

It was that life lesson that had me dreaming new dreams before I turned 40. A family that looks a little different. New ideas for our barn.

A garage in my home town with vintage rides to restore.

Maintaining all this is work, but these are also our hobbies. It’s a life we’re creating.

It’s the life we are living.

That foreclosure came with land. It was the main reason I didn’t shy away from the work it would take to make a neglected house into our home. After nearly 17 years of projects we finally have more time to enjoy our surroundings.

The place our dreaming led us to.

Most nights I find myself standing in our field in awe of my view.

Thinking about the many ways things have turned out exactly as I wanted and all the ways they haven’t.

There is nothing better than connecting with nature at the end of the day to center you.

When I was 13 years old I had a similar view. I spent many waning days of my youth standing in a field thinking about all the things I wanted to do. All the things I could become. I never had a lack of prospects or ideas (I still don’t!).

There’s definitely value in accomplishments, it’s satisfying to put in an honest days work. But there’s equal value to ambition and foresight.

I would much rather tell people “I’ve always been a dreamer…”

More Stories About our Remodeling Journey

“Determined to have my own space in the country we took on a foreclosure in 2006 and smiled politely through the criticism and advice of many who thought our place wasn’t worth fixing up or those that didn’t believe my claim to want to stay here forever. But it was a dream of mine. To completely gut and redo a house. To be able to watch every tree I planted grow. To get my hands dirty and make a life here sustainable, full with memories.”