When I look around our property these days, I have to admit that what I see first isn’t usually what we’ve accomplished. I see the piles of things still sitting under tarps where I need to plant our orchard before winter. I see the huge weeds that have taken over the ground along the front and side of the house, where we’re hoping to begin landscaping around the porch. And then there’s the massive pile of uprooted trees left from the excavation more than a year ago.
Everywhere I look, it seems, there’s something waiting to be done. And that’s been one of the unexpected challenges of building this new homestead. When so much of what still needs attention is right there in front of you every day, it’s very easy to let the unfinished things become the measure of your progress. I’ve certainly done that. The funny thing is, while I’ve been looking at all those unfinished things, we’ve actually been steadily finishing something enormous.
We’re now about a week away from our final occupancy inspection on the house. After all these months of construction, decisions, delays and seemingly endless details, we’re almost there. Almost. Passing that inspection doesn’t mean we’ll be moving in the next day. There’s still a fairly long list of things we need to finish before we’re actually ready to leave the RV and move into the house. And I suppose that’s part of what I’m learning: on a project like this, there always seems to be another list.
Until recently, I tended to look at all those lists and think about how much of it I could possibly get done today—or this week. The result was fairly predictable. There was always more that needed doing than there were hours or energy to do it, and even a productive day could somehow feel as though I hadn’t accomplished enough.
I’ve been learning to look at it differently. Some things really do need my attention now. That orchard needs to be planted before winter. But everything on my list doesn’t carry the same urgency, even when it feels that way. I’m learning that I can move something off the front burner without abandoning it. It isn’t never. It’s just not now.
And that little distinction has brought an unexpected amount of peace. The piles under the tarps are still there. The weeds haven’t gone anywhere, and neither has that enormous pile of trees. I still see them. But I’m beginning to see something else, too. I’m seeing how far we’ve come.
There will always be another project on a homestead and probably another list waiting behind the one we’re working on. I’m learning that unfinished doesn’t necessarily mean we’re behind. Sometimes it simply means we’re not there yet.
And I’m becoming much more comfortable with that.