Transitioning From Hunting to Farming, With Grace

So there is this metaphor out there about the hunter and the farmer. I’m pretty sure it’s an oldie, but it’s new to me. Do you know it?

It goes a little something like this (or at least, my interpretation of it): the hunter is always hungry. She operates out of primal instinct – always on the prowl, and attacks what’s in front of her (this feels a little violent as I type – but you get the idea). She is always going, pursuing, striving.

The farmer, on the other hand is planful – she is sowing the seeds today for the growth she imagines for tomorrow. Her investment of energy today will  yield a bountiful tomorrow, and she isn’t living “kill to kill.” Ugh – again with the violence.

The farmer is asking herself what she’d like to grow; she is planning, taking thoughtful action, assessing progress, and ultimately enjoying the literal fruits of her labor.

This metaphor is resonating with me a great deal on this Gen Ex lady-journey to a gentler place. I was raised to be a hunter; hungry, nearly blindly ambitious, always striving to get ahead.

And in the very short term this mentality brought me success.  But also it brought me exhaustion, overwhelm, and the constant need to be looking to and for the next thing. I was never quite present or grounded where I was.  And that feeling always left me wanting.

I flatter myself to think I’m starting to farm now. First and foremost, I’m crushing the plaid shirts (so glad they’re back in this year – at least I think they are!). But more importantly, I’m taking strategic pauses, scanning the lay of the land, and asking myself what I’m hoping to grow.

For me, hunting was getting up every day at 5 am, commuting 90 minutes to work, leaving my kids in the care of others, rocking meetings, presentations and projects, showing up exhausted at the end of the day, and questioning none of it.

A hunter is primal – she doesn’t ask why. She just attacks.

And I don’t mean to imply hunting was without its merits. It left me feeling competent and capable – great performance reviews and regular promotions feel really good. There was the paycheck, the wardrobe, the sense of importance… all of that was real for me.

But what I was lacking – I realize in hindsight (the view in which, of course, all of my most insightful conclusions appear) was the sense of purpose – the sense of “for what?”

To be clear, I harbor ZERO judgment of anyone who leaves their children in the care of others (out of either necessity or choice) versus staying at home and doing 100% of the rearing. My kids were safe, building character, friendships and a whole lot of immunity we’ve come to enjoy in their bigger kid years!

But for me, if they’d ever asked what was so important that I had to be gone 12 hours a day running around like a headless chicken, I’m not sure what I would have told them.

I also want to be clear in acknowledging my privilege. More on that in another piece – but for now I’ll just say I had a choice. Not everyone does. And for that I’m eternally grateful.

Now in this farming chapter, I’m feeling more balanced, whole, and intentional. And it feels good. I take some projects and leave others. I work some days, not others. I volunteer for elementary school library and then lead a virtual corporate leadership session.

Precisely what veggies am I growing at present? Well, if I’m honest, I’m not sure. But they’ll be organic and delicious and totally homegrown. And for now, that’s good enough for me.