In It for Life: Maximizing Longevity
By Tim Lybarger
We each made a list
…of the things that were important to us in the new home we sought out when we moved back to Ohio. There were the “wants” and the “needs” that my wife and I put down on paper.
For her, a non-negotiable was an easily walkable neighborhood. She had to have it for her personal health, mental and physical. For me — space for a garden and maple trees – enough maple trees so that I could make my own maple syrup each spring.
It was a hobby I’d picked up during the almost 10 years we’d lived in Vermont. Up there, the winters are so long that sugaring was a harbinger of hope that, once again, the snow banks would fade and be replaced by green fields and dandelions. Lots of folks did their own backyard sugaring and I picked it up as a way to “partake of the lifestyle.”
Now, after almost 20 years of doing it, it has become a tradition, something that is a part of my DNA. To not participate would be to miss something essential that marks the quality of my life.
Connections
To think too hard about it would spoil it a bit, but it has something to do with connections: 
connections to the land and a feeling that I can work with it to benefit from its blessing; a connection with the past, when it seems that things may have been wealthy in a different way, and less complicated; a connection with family — how good it feels to have the grandkids join in the process with wide eyes and squeals of joy. Most of all, maybe it is just a connection with myself and the feeling that this is what I love to do — experiencing the outside, the changing weather; the pulling together all of the pieces and parts to make it happen; and yes, the sweet, sweet reward of all that effort. Yes, it is a primary source of meaning for me.
Anchors
The other day, in response to someone’s bemoaning the complexities of modern life, I heard someone say, “That’s the way it is. Welcome to adulthood.”
Well, maybe so. But, in order to sustain the effort, I think we need anchors. Or maybe safe harbors where we can reassure ourselves that life can still make sense, and be simple again.
Traditions can offer us that.
As I age, I have resolved to hang onto the traditions that truly reflect the core of who I am. The world can toss me about, but it cannot loosen my grip on the things that matter most to me. I will not let it.
What are your traditions, your anchors, your go-to things that provide hope for green fields and dandelions? Label them, and do not give them up — for anything.
Photos courtesy pexels.com
Eric
Love this post! Thanks for sharing, in particular regarding the connection to the land. I have just recently started gardening, and though I am a true novice, its rewarding to consume what you have grown yourself. Theres something about having that connection to those whose sustenance relied on growing and harvesting food for themselves.