Early-week Musings

One thing that I have noticed is that the best thinking happens while driving a machine doing a repetitive and fairly mindless task.  For example, I planned my entire honors exhibit on the back of a lawn mower in the summer before my sophomore year.  While on the harrow this morning I realized something - I really have come a long way.  Despite my active participation in farming throughout my life, there were two things that I never cared to do and avoided at all costs - driving the tractor (with the exception of square baling) and working cattle.  The hesitation in doing these two tasks are a direct result of two very powerful memories from my childhood.  I remember sitting on my dad's lap when I was probably six years old while he was driving the tractor down the driveway.  Being the eager and inquisitive child that I was, I asked if I could drive.  He let me.  I took hold of the wheel and he let go.  Well, within seconds of my taking hold, we got dangerously close to the fence line.  He took back the wheel before we hit, but that experience scared me.  Not because I was afraid for my life or anything, but because I was afraid my dad would be angry with me. I was afraid of doing something wrong if I were to try it again.  And that by making that mistake I would be causing anger or frustration for everyone.  As for working cattle, my sister had bucket calves for a 4-H project for most of the ten years she was in the organization.  The youngest age you can show livestock for our 4-H club was eight, so my sister was eight years old when she had her first calf and I was four.  I was one of those annoying little sisters that wanted to do everything my big sister did.  So naturally, I wanted to go outside and help my sister with her bucket calf.  I don't remember exactly if Sweetheart licked me or mooed in my ear or what, but whatever that calf did freaked me out.  Remember, four years are still pretty small.  That baby calf was still a whole lot bigger than I was and whatever happened scared me so much that I didn't want to work with cattle for years and years after that.  Honestly, I didn't start to feel comfortable around cattle until late high school.  My parents started purchasing about 20 calves or so a year (and have continued to do so), and those calves helped pay for my education.  Therefore I felt obligated to help in the care for those animals.  The first year I did it begrudgingly.  At least I wasn't afraid of how big they were.  Yet, now, what am I doing?  I am walking among our cattle everyday.  I can turned my back on our steers and not feel the least bit afraid.  I'm cautious, to be sure, because you never know with animals, but I'm not worried something will happen to me.  Heck, at Tillers, I was yoking up two 2,500 pound steers and driving them with a crop.  And now look at me with tractor driving; I drive the feed wagon for the west yard almost daily and have spent about twelve hours with the harrow over the last two days.  It just amazes me how powerful my memories (and the emotions affiliated with those memories) are.  I know my emotions drive me.  I am an ISFJ for the Myers Briggs test.  Most of my life is dictated by emotions, perceptions, concrete thought, and consistency rather than the objective, logical, abstract thought, and spontaneity.  Despite my knowing this, however, I was still rather pleased with myself as I drove along the field and realized just how much fear and doubt I have overcome in my life.  And that thought kept me happy all day long.