9 March

Moving Thoughts

by Jon Katz
Maria In Her Studio

 

There are times I forget the farm is for sale, and when it hits me, it is disorienting. We’ve filled our dumpster and sent it away, cleaned out cabinets and drawers and closets, imagined the people we want to live here. Yesterday, Maria and I went to the place we hope will be the New Bedlam Farm. It is not a big and impressive farm like this one. It has a comparatively new house, a cottage, a studio for Maria,  a barn for the donkeys, a path to a beautiful stream, some good pasture. It is shrouded in pine trees, which were whistling and groaning in the wind. We sat on the porch, held hands, imagined our lives there. It was peaceful, soothing. It felt good. Like home.

People gingerly ask us if there are any takers, any serious buyers sniffing around. “Well, you know this market,” a friend said at dinner, then pausing and adding “oh, that’s right. You guys are the optimists.” If love is out of style these days, optimism is even more so. I rarely meet a human being who is not preoccupied with politics, real estate, sick relatives, gas prices,  weather and climate, war or the economy. People tell me frequently they are unsure of giving birth to children in so dark and foreboding a world.

I do not feel this way about the world, and neither does Maria. And I don’t argue about it, I just smile and nod and wait for the conversation to move on. I see much color, light, beauty and love in the world, and I would love to bring a child into the world with my wife if not for the fact I will not live long enough to love a child properly.

When people call me an optimist, I see them rolling their eyes a bit, and good naturedly dismiss me as myopic. It happens all the time, and I do not miss it. I have no crystal ball, and I am not immune from the realities of life. But I do believe we will sell our beautiful farm, and I do believe we will move on to a different and equally productive and creative part of our life. It is time, I can feel it. And so I just nod and smile at the people speaking in the currency of gloom and despair, and I think to myself: it will happen when it is supposed to happen. What we need will arrive.

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