My favorite cartoon strip is from Peanuts creator Charles Schulz. In it, Lucy asks, “I wonder if anyone ever really changes.” Charlie Brown is offended, “I’ve changed a lot this past year.” She looks at him, “I mean for the better.”
Hmmm. Would you say you’ve changed – for the better – this year?
The lead story in my new book A.G.E.N.C.Y. is about a family who has changed more in the past six months than many of us have in decades. Here’s what I mean.
My son, his family, and I spent Thanksgiving with my sister and her family last year. During dinner, Cheri’s daughter shared her dream that – someday – she’d like to own a ranch and start a non-profit that rescued draft horses.
For fun, we jumped on Zillow to see if there were any ranches close to us in Texas, and if so, how much they cost.
We ooh’d and aahh’d over a few of the properties, “Look, this one has a barn and two large pastures,” “This one has a pond.” We left, thinking that was that.
Imagine my surprise when Cheri called to announce, “We’re moving to Texas.”
“You’re what?!”
“Christina found a ranch in Mexia, Texas in her budget and bought it.”
“Wow. Congratulations. When are you moving?”
“March 15.”
“Cheri, that’s six weeks from now.”
“I know! We’ve got a lot to do, we better get busy.”
Well, let’s hear it for making your dreams come true… now, not later.
Cheri, Joe, and Christy drove themselves and their “stuff” halfway across the country to launch Working Draft Rescue & Rehab. (Kudos on that great name!)
They’ve already adopted six horses (Percherons, Belgians, a Friesian), a mini-pony, “zebra” mule, a pregnant donkey, and two cows.
All the horses, (most of whom have worked hard all their life pulling plows and buggies) were at a kill shelter where they were scheduled to be slaughtered.
Christy adopted them, trailered them to Mexia, had them checked by a vet and a farrier, and they’re now out grazing in a green field with grass up to their bellies.
If horses could talk, I bet they’re sending up thanks for winning the lottery and hanging with buddies in a loving home instead of where they were headed.
Let’s put this in perspective.
This move meant leaving the California home and community where Cheri, Joe, and Christy have lived in for 30 years. I
t meant downsizing their possessions by 2/3 so they could haul their belongings halfway across the country to a town they’d never seen.
It meant transferring their longtime bookkeeping business to all virtual – and hoping that worked.
It meant signing up for the logistical challenges of living in the country. If you’ve ever lived on a ranch, you know that… things go wrong. There are always crises – animals getting out, things breaking, things that need to be fixed.
Has it been hard? Yes.
The plumbing went out the day after they moved in.
Could they find a plumber? No.
Did Christy go online, study YouTube videos, and figure out how to fix it herself?
Yes.
Did lightning strike a huge tree in their front yard? Yes.
Did it come crashing down, just narrowly missing the house? Yes.
Did their neighbor show up with a chainsaw and help cut it up and remove it so it wasn’t blocking the road? Yes.
Did that neighbor, upon finding out about their non-profit, offer to lease her field to them for $60 a year (!) so the “gentle giants” have more grazing land?
Yes.
Virginia Woolf said, “A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.”
In the past couple of months, the Grimm Family has had dozens of “character-building” opportunities to get resourceful, figure things out, and go on changing.
Yet when Cheri and Joe sit on their back porch at golden hour, and Christy yells, “BUCKETS,” they watch these horses (several of whom who were lame and could barely walk without pain) gallopto the barn to get their nightly ration of grain.
Cheri says, “This move is one of the ‘rightest’ things we’ve ever done.”
Jerry Seinfeld says, “To me, life boils down to one thing – to keep moving.”
The Grimm Family’s decision to “keep moving” has set up a ripple effect of deeply satisfying experiences they never would have had otherwise.
They’ve met people they never would have met. They’ve gained skills they never would have had. They feel self-respect and a satisfying sense of success that comes from doing what you want to do – and what you said you’d do.
Kudos to them for having the courage to bet on themselves and their dream.