Enough is plenty

This morning I was walking across the farm with the dogs, checking the pregnant ewes and the group of tegs who will go to the ram this autumn, and it was drizzling, removing the last traces of the snowfall and turning the ground from crunch to squish. I counted the sheep, making sure nothing was upturned, limping, off on its own or showing any other signs of being off colour. And I could count them because they are in lower figures than in other years. Because we’re older and don’t need or want to be run ragged by the demands of the farm. We want to farm for greater bio-diversity, while continuing to produce great meat and solid positives for nature; we don’t want to pretend we still have the energy of thirty year olds. Later this month we’ll be planting more trees and plug plants of wildflowers both harvested ourselves from the farm and from other sources in the county. It is farming, but it is a definite tweak from chasing the numbers.

I have always had a difficult relationship with the concept of progress and growth. It’s why I got top marks in English and failed at economics. I think growth is frequently hurtful, damaging, terrifying, and seems to be, by definition, always at the expense of someone else’s loss, someone else’s less. More billionaires = more people in poverty. The trickle-down effect is dead and a mantra used as soma for the masses who somehow believe that if only grass was gold, they would be billionaires too. And let’s not confuse growth with change; change can be exciting, rejuvenating, invigorating, intriguing. I am not advocating for stasis. But growth for continuous gain is greed and greed must be one of the most depressing aspects of humankind. Whether it’s more sheep, more land, more wealth, more status, more celebrity, more whatever. Do more sheep or cows equal more happiness? Almost certainly if you’re building a flock/herd to reach a sensible goal and achieve economies of scale. But after that? Having more just for the sake of it? For bragging rights? To be the biggest, thinking that means the best? It’s a skewed view.

There’s something wonderful about aging, when the treadmill, the grail, the habit of more just becomes irrelevant and you embrace the fact that enough is plenty. Enough is riches. Enough is a privilege. Enough is a gift.