This farm has been a dream in my head for a year now. For the first few months, I would walk the back of our property with a tape measure and plot out just how much land I could claim for rows of flowers. Then I started walking with tape measure and spray paint, essentially my way of planting my flag and calling the territory mine. At the same time, I began researching almost incessantly, a necessary activity that has been engraved on my brain after so many years of higher education and teaching. Nothing in this world can work without reading a sufficient number of books first. I placed countless interlibrary loan requests for every text I could possibly find and took copious notes. When a book proved especially useful, I bought a used copy of it and added it to my library.
The research was just the beginning, though, and soon I found myself giving up the most precious thing in the world to me (which is a full, blissful 8 hours 0f sleep each night) in order to continue giving my day job the attention I’ve always devoted to it and to complete the growing list of tasks the burgeoning flower farm required.
Now, as I walk the narrow paths between flower beds or methodically pot on little seedlings, I find myself getting a little teary-eyed. Some could say this is a result of sleep deprivation, but since it only comes when I’m when I’m working on making this dream become reality, I’m pretty sure that it’s something far more significant. I’m stepping into my purpose, sowing the seeds of a meaningful future.
Realizing our dreams, I think, is worth a little lost sleep.