Happy 2025, Everyone!  New Year’s day is one of my favorite holidays. It’s sort of like dozens of Mondays all rolled into one ~ we start something new, anything’s possible, and somehow, life looks brighter on a “first” day. January first has always been a hodgepodge of resolutions for me.  Some years, I’ve sworn off cookies, or vowed to workout every day, or promised myself that I won’t procrastinate on grading my students’ papers. Other years, I find a new idea, or a new way of thinking about an idea that’s grown too comfortable to be questioned anymore. This year, I’ve found an idea that seems simple on the surface, yet has a depth that is resonating with me and allowing me to think about the old idea of “proactive purchasing.” 

A few weeks before Christmas, I received a book in the mail titled The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World (2024) and written by Robin Wall Kimmerer, the author of Braiding Sweetgrass. I think I was on page two when I realized how powerful were her words. I’m still unpacking most of what she writes about a gift economy, but one idea stood out immediately ~ the idea of “enoughness.”  In those moments when we ‘count our blessings,’ the gratitude that builds in response to the growing list of our gifts helps us recognize that we already have what we need ~ we have enough. That feeling of abundance, though, slowly evaporates in the narrative of our daily lives where the primary message to us is that we don’t have enough. We need always to buy and consume more. (12) The greatest unfortunate takeaway from this is that we live in fear ~ fear of being caught short when we really need something.  

My mother was a great proponent of believing that we need to “prepare” for the coming…whatever ~ snowstorm, tornado, bad harvest ~ and I definitely inherited her tendency to fear-based buying of things I didn’t really need. Being a single mom for many years just cemented the fear of a shortage in our house, especially with items like baby Tylenol, dog food, wood for the stove. As I’ve grown into the life that is Sundance Farm Sanctuary, though, I’ve definitely begun to question all of this stockpiling, as we used to call it. After all, the barn really can only handle so many bales of hay and straw. 

“Do we have enough?” begs the question of “enough for what?” for next week? Next month? Next year?  Most significantly, though, this question takes us out of today, when we have enough, when we’re Okay and maybe even better than okay. It shoots us out to a time filled only with scary possibilities ~ the possibility that we might not be okay because we don’t have … whatever.  It increases our fear about what might happen to such an extent that we focus not on what’s real and present, but what’s only a scary possibility.  Then we worry and spend money.  But when we’re okay in this moment, when we recognize that we do have enough in this moment, we’re more likely to be calm, to lift our heads and really see what’s in front of us today ~ and to appreciate what we see, to smile because we’re not afraid, and to move forward knowing we’re blessed because we have enough ~ maybe even enough to share. 

And what, you might be asking, does any of this have to do with Midnight, our rabbit?  Actually, this all has to do with every one of our animals. I am learning from them every day, and if I’m honest, most of the lessons revolve around the idea of being present in the moment and recognizing that we really do have enough for today. In the moment, it doesn’t matter that there is a prolonged cold wave that’s going to sweep into Michigan and last for weeks. Today, there’s twenty bales of straw in the Little Barn that’s perfect for burrowing into to stay warm, thirty bales of hay for munching while the wind blows, and bags of pine shavings for clean bedding.  And for providing all of that, what do our animals give us in return? Love. Joy. The gift of being witness to their lives. Today, we have a rabbit hopping around the converted dining room, seven sheep who ran to me for hugs, three dogs tired from playing outside in the sun, and six cats who are, well I don’t know where they are. Hunting, I suspect, in the mild air. 

Did I plan for the abundance in the barn for the winter? Yes. There is definitely a fine line between fear consumption and reasonable planning for what I’m sure is on its way. When I purchased the hay, straw and pine shavings, I was reasonably sure that winter in Michigan was on its way. It would be difficult ~ but not impossible ~ to replenish anything for about eight weeks, so I prepared for those eight weeks. But before this life taught me otherwise, I would have given in to fear of scarcity and really stockpiled, probably losing my calm and joy in today. So, am I worried about the coming summer and the possibility of a drought that could affect the first cutting of hay? I could certainly get myself there ~ but this New Year’s day, I’m going to remember “Enoughness.”  We have enough today. We are warm and fed today. There is no hay growing today, so I’ll pause my worry for a time when I actually have something to worry about. If there even is something to worry about. A friend once told me that worrying is praying for the wrong thing to happen.  This year, I’m going to take that to heart and remember Kimmerer’s teachings. Today’s relationships fill our souls; accumulation for tomorrow fuels our fears.