Living | Loving | Leaving

I keep referring to leaving the farm, but I am still here. Having spent more time here than anywhere else in my life the time will come when I leave. Each new day presents fresh opportunities and I have calculated that there is another half of my life yet to live.

What has been, doesn’t always have to be.

Looking to the west, at each night’s sunset, I question why I would ever leave this place. It is stunning, peaceful, and filled with an indescribable beauty. Above all, it is the landscape’s natural colours that are most appealing.

Wool and meat have traditionally complemented grain production and farm income. Over the last few decades, farmers have been gradually decreasing sheep numbers. We have retained them to ensure an income, eat the stubble from the previous year’s harvest, and reduce the need for extensive and expensive chemical spraying. In the last few years, they have brought in good money, in wool and meat. Today, there were some interesting emotions involved as we sold the last of the sheep.

We mourned the end of an era. It was also the end of a successful breeding program, shearing, drafting, ear tagging, treating fly-struck sheep, helping ewes give birth, pulling them out of dams, and treating their various illnesses. For The Farmer, it signals the end of many years of hard, physical work, and tonight, we are quietly celebrating our sheepless farm.

Selling our last sheep means severing a daily commitment to being physically on the farm. We don’t need to go back to the farm and check them amidst our annual, seaside holiday.

stress and sheep

We won’t be getting phone calls in the early morning hours, on our short city break, reporting that our fences are down due to reasons beyond our control. One incident related to a car accident where the car rolled and ended in the paddock. Another was the result of a domestic where a couple was fighting over control of the steering wheel. This incident ended with the car careering through the fence where the sheep were grazing.

We won’t be chasing sheep through the cemetery late at night with neighbours whose farm borders the cemetery boundary. We won’t be wondering who is out on the road lighting fires and burning down fences in a methamphetamine-fuelled rage.

Soon after, we discovered that the sheep were going to another farm several hours away. That is some consolation because we had originally thought they would be going to the abattoirs.

Within the COVID-19 lockdown period, we moved house. Getting through the regional border (from the country to the city) was another story, despite my plea to the authorities that it was ‘essential’ travel. Another tenant was moving into the rental we were vacating and couldn’t while we were still there.

One of life’s great life challenges, aside from giving birth, relationship breakdown, new job, marriage, and death of a loved one, is moving house. We managed it relatively unscathed. My happy place was a little rented cottage in a quiet seaside suburb, surrounded by multimillion-dollar homes. It was one of the earliest homes built in City Beach and is now destined for demolition in a few years.

Is your happy place, a freedom from work place?

It was my happy place because I felt as though we were always on holiday, whether it was a short stay or an extended break. I didn’t do much ‘paid’ work here, at least overtime anyhow. It was therefore devoid of unproductive stress.

With a 400 m walk through a narrow laneway to a quiet, pristine Western Australian beach, we would rise early to walk towards Swanbourne, past the people exercising their dogs. In the evening, we would return to the ocean’s edge to take a final dip for the day, watch the sunset, and have a glass of wine.

Its appeal was that there were no retail shops within a 4 km radius although there were several fancy cafes and restaurants. Walking was easier than driving, especially at night after an evening out at one of the local restaurants. Our favourites for dinner were Odyssea, and Hampton’s (although pricey), or Clancy’s. Clancy’s was great for a morning coffee too, after a run or walk. Just up the road, the Kiosk Cafe at Floreat Beach was quieter and perfect any time of the day. Rise is another great eatery but focuses more on pizza, pasta, salad, and seafood.

Imagine leaving it all then? Fortunately, we were moving to a house we bought in a suburb about a 7-minute drive away. Here are a few things to consider when you are moving from a house that is your happy place.

tips for moving from your happy place

• The happy place is within you, and it will be at your new place too.

• Think about your happy place as a direction rather than a place.

• Realise that circumstances or places do not dictate your happiness!

• See the move as an opportunity for a new start, and a new life.

• Plan well ahead of time so that you eliminate any last minute panic dilemmas.

• Create space where you like to retreat and enjoy spending time in, whether on your own or with your loved ones.

• Make social connections in your new community as these are closely tied to personal happiness, safety, and security.

Leaving your happy place and creating another one

A house is merely a physical thing. It is up to you to find your new happy home and furnish it with love, thought, and things that bring you pleasure. Check out Ways to Make you Happier at Home. Stay tuned for my new happy house.

Describe your happy place! Where is it? What makes it such a happy place? Waterfalls do it for me especially this beautiful waterfall in Vietnam.