Doubt Monster

A few weeks ago, I posted a podcast about how I want to be a farmer.  It discussed the validity and value of farming, both personally and communally.  It also discussed some of the seemingly insurmountable barriers in the industry, and why it's still worth working around them.   

I have to consciously work up the courage to share this podcast with people.  I feel exposed and vulnerable when I tell people I want to farm.  I feel like there is a high probability I won't make it; that I'll give up, change my mind, or flat out fail.  Who am I to think I can farm better (that is, run an economically viable and ecologically sustainable operation) than those who have given it their best shot and failed?  What is it that makes a new farmer successful, versus one that burns out or can’t pay the bills?

I’ve been interning on a small vegetable farm, owned by a young gal who started the farm four years ago.  She works incredibly hard at what she does, and the farm is thriving.  I look at how hard she works and how much she loves farming-- it's truly amazing.  I wonder if I have enough of that drive and willpower to be out from dawn ‘til dusk, to be out harvesting brussel sprouts in the November rain, to give up summer vacations.  Do I have the character to make it happen?  And not only character, but assets?  She’s had some unique opportunities with access to land and mentors. I don't come from an agricultural background, which will make things more difficult. 

My boss gave me advice about this.  She said, “You know Kelsey, you just have to decide you’re going to do it.  Stop second-guessing yourself and don’t worry about other people’s doubts.  When you remove the option of copping out, the chance of success are much higher.”

The tricky thing about the Doubt Monster is that my brain rationalizes the doubts and fears I hear from myself and other people, and I become convinced they are true.  I struggle with finding a healthy realism among all the doubt, fear, and encouragement. 

But when all is said and done, what does it matter if I do or do not end up farming?  I don’t regret how I’m spending my time at the moment; I'm highly satisfied with my work.  There is nothing like straightening your back and looking at a freshly weeded bean field, or hauling two carts full of zucchini back to the cooler.  

So maybe one day I’ll have my own farm, or maybe I’ll work on someone else’s farm, or maybe I won’t.  But I can’t let the Doubt Monster get my goat before I’ve even tried.