Brick walls and bingo

Do you ever feel like you’ve hit a brick wall at the full speed of life? You know, you’ve been stopped cold in your tracks and landed on your backside? You’re dazed, confused, feeling lost and yet fortunate at the same time? I know I have grazed against a brick wall or two over the years, swerving just before full impact. On the farm, I call them close calls with big life lessons learned by the least amount of trauma.

There were too many potholes on this road, though. As I swerved to avoid them, I lost control and headed directly into the brick wall at full impact. I’m dazed and struggling to find my footing as I pick myself up off the ground.

The biggest pothole was our sale in October. This changed the course for our family, but it wasn’t until mid-December that the reality of our action hit me directly. Previously, I was caught up in the anticipation of preparing for the sale while I managed the care for the young calves. It didn’t hit me that my life would be changing, too.

We were heading to Illinois for some Christmas time with my family. I didn’t want to leave any extra chores behind for Austin to cover while we were gone. The time had come. My youngest calf, Skedaddle, was old enough to be weaned from her bottle, so we pulled her off and headed south for a couple of days.

When we got back, it was the Christmas countdown of activities with more family and friends. Life was a buzz. There was always another project to complete before gifts were exchanged. Treats to share, a new year to welcome, a birthday to celebrate, everything was cruising fast forward.

The potholes I had avoided earlier left me heading toward a spinout on January ice. The Christmas decorations were stored away. There were no more treats to create, no more family gatherings near. There were no more milk bottles to fill, no more young calves to care for. All the energy and excitement of the past few months seemed to come to a screeching halt. The frigid wind chills pushed everyone inside to avoid frozen limbs and slippery ice rinks across the farm yard. Life changed.

I’m a bit dazed by the sudden impact of ordinary days — the quietness, everyone else picking back up their normal routines and rhythm, leaving me behind. I seem to have lost my footing as to what my next step is now that the excitement of the holidays has been stored away with the decorations.

I know I’m not the only one to feel bumped off course. This is the time of year when many are experiencing similar feelings of being “off.” We have to recognize we can’t do everything by ourselves. We need to open the door to a conversation. We need to keep connected to others via conventions, local coop meetings or just a simple neighborly visit.

I think another reason I’m a bit off course is because there is such a wide open road ahead of me that I’m dazzled by all the opportunities. There are so many choices; which way do I turn? It is so easy to say “yes” to everything, but I’m learning that I need to proceed slowly as I take my footsteps forward. A gentle “No” or “Maybe later” have become my brakes to getting carried away.

So, what do I do with all of these ideas and opportunities swarming around in my head? I think I need to create a bingo card. Instead of numbers, the squares are filled with goals, activities and dreams. Instead of listing resolutions of change for the coming year, which we tend to forget by February, why not resolve to do it a bit differently?

Last year, Katie created a life bingo card in which she wrote down different things she wanted to experience in the coming year. One block was to run a half marathon, and she marked it off in October. This year, she has modified it to a 10K under a certain time; she did the marathon thing once and doesn’t need to do it again. Instead of numbers on the bingo card, there are activities, goals and dreams filling the 24 spaces of the card just for you. The middle square is still a freebie, like a regular card.

I’ve come up with 15 different things I want to check off my bingo card this year — 16 if you count the freebie in the middle. Katie gave me the supplies to make our bingo card to hang on the fridge along with Christmas family cards. Mark is still working on what he wants to put on our card as well. He only needs to come up with nine blocks, a manageable number for a first step in capturing your bearings after hitting a brick wall.

As their four children pursue dairy careers off the family farm, Natalie and Mark Schmitt started an adventure of milking registered Holsteins just because they like good cows on their farm north of Rice, Minnesota.