Have you ever been told to mind your own business?
I can't say anyone has ever actually said those words to me, at least not that I can remember. Yet it's a saying we all know. Usually it means to stay out of other people's affairs. What they do is none of our concern.
But this week I found myself thinking about the saying in a completely different way.
Earlier this week I had the opportunity to visit a fairly large sheep farm about an hour from here. Over the last few years I've gotten to know several sheep farmers, and every once in a while I get a chance to see how someone else operates.
Now, I don't know if you're like me, but sometimes it's hard not to compare.
As I drove home alone in the pickup, my mind started racing. The barns were bigger. The flock was bigger. The equipment was newer. These young fellows had built impressive operations, and before long I was mentally redesigning our entire farm.
Maybe we should build this.
Maybe we should expand that.
Maybe we're too small.
Maybe we're falling behind.
Funny how quickly the mind can go there.
The longer I drove, the worse I felt. Reality started creeping in. I'm in my 50s now. Most of the farmers I had visited were probably twenty years younger than me. Their operations were several times larger than ours. Before long I'd talked myself from excitement into something closer to discouragement.
Later that day Anne and I headed out to make a few deliveries. Along the way I shared what had been rattling around in my head all morning.
The interesting thing was Anne felt much the same way.
Neither of us was particularly excited about taking on a mountain of debt to chase some grand vision. We talked about it for a while, then carried on with our deliveries.
We visited with several customers that day. We chatted in driveways. We heard stories. We got thanked for what we're doing. People told us how much they enjoyed the lamb and how much they appreciated knowing where their food came from.
Nothing dramatic happened.
No great revelation.
No lightning bolt from the sky.
Just a few good conversations with good people.
By evening, the feeling had mostly passed.
Then later that night, while scrolling through my phone, a short video appeared. It was just a fellow standing outside somewhere beautiful. He looked about my age.
He said, "Don't forget to look around. Where you're standing today was once the goal you were trying to achieve."
Then he smiled and said, "You be good to you, and you take care."
That was it.
A ten-second video.
But for whatever reason, it hit me square between the eyes.
Because he's right.
There was a time when being a full-time farmer seemed impossible.
Yet here we are.
Anne and I both work on the farm full time now. The sheep, the crops, the deliveries, the customers... all the things that once felt like some distant goal have somehow become our everyday life.
Funny thing is, when you're busy living the dream, sometimes you forget it was ever the dream at all.
Are we the biggest sheep farm? Not even close.
Do we still have worries? Every day.
Could things be better? Of course.
But maybe once in a while it's worth stopping and looking around.
Maybe it's worth noticing that the thing we're standing in today was once the dream we were chasing.
So this week I'm trying a little harder to quit worrying about the neighbour's farm and focus on my own.
Maybe that's what "mind your own business" really means after all.
Farmer Rod
(Here is the video link if you would like to see it -