midnight feedings & ‘ichigo ichie’

 I sat on a salt block and watched the moonlight shine on the profile of my husband. Time has changed him since we first met. His beard now has “chrome-highlights” —like any good muscle car should have, he'll say. And maybe a few more wrinkles, although honestly those could just be from him straining to keep his eyes open at 4:30 in the morning. We sat in our yard, surrounded by a favorite 14 year old ewe, two 2-day-old bummer lambs, and our dog. One lamb had been refusing to eat. We had tried every trick we have ever learned—but each hour he was just getting weaker. I had sat back on the ground, milk dripping off all of us. The dog tried licking the milk off my arms and I pushed her away. She continued licking the baby lamb, who was quite receptive to her, and wobbled her way to her feet and began nudging underneath the dog's belly. More to be funny than anything else, I shoved the bottle underneath the dog—and that's how we fed that lamb for the next three feedings. On the 4th feeding, he finally learned he didn't need the dog—which was just as much a relief to her as to us. This was also the first time he was eating more than just a few swallows. I listened to the slurp-slurp of his sucking in the dark morning. Success has distinctive sounds in agriculture, and the slurp of a new baby nursing is definitely one of them—the sound of a hand line pressurizing is another. Sitting on my salt block, listening to the baby eat and watching my husband feed the other lamb, I felt surprisingly happy. As exhausted as we were, this was a beautiful moment. There’s a concept in Japanese tea ceremony from Zen— ‘ichigo ichie’ which, roughly translates to “one lifetime, one meeting.” It's the idea that we live each moment, only once and that the value of each en counter is that it happens only once in a lifetime. The phrase ‘ichigo ichie’ was coined by Ii Naosuke, the Japanese tea master who lived from 1815-1860. The story goes that he was constantly threatened with assassination and so he made his tea each day as if it were his last. Every time he made it, he said the tea was unique and more beautiful than the time before. He knew that he would never have the chance to drink another tea exactly like the one he had just made, and so ichigo ichie is a way to understand and embrace the impermanence of life. It’s such a beautiful idea: every moment you share with someone is unique, fleeting and will never happen again—even if it's with people you see every day. What would life be like if we could learn this kind of deep appreciation for any moment? Often, especially in farming, we're waiting for that moment when the ground will be worked, the crops will be planted, harvest will be over, the animals are through lambing/calving—waiting as if there's some special moment that will arrive. A moment that will be more special than life is right now. But this moment happening right now, this is the moment of a lifetime. Every en counter will only happen once, and will never be repeated—en joy that thought. Good or bad, this moment is gone forever. Be present in it. It doesn't matter if you're riding dolphins in the Caribbean or riding a lawn mower in the yard; picking out a pair of heels for a fancy dinner, or picking a load of cantaloupe for market; soaking in a remote hot springs in Finland or soaking in sweat and manure working cattle. Find something to value in this moment. As you find value in life's random moments, you may notice that your “To-Do List” starts changing into “Things I Gotta Do...That Can Wait...”