Sauna from the Wikifile: The word sauna is an ancient Finnish word referring to the traditional Finnish bath and to the bathhouse itself. In Baltic-Finnic languages other than Finnish, sauna
does not necessarily mean a building or space built for bathing. It can
also mean a small cabin or cottage, such as a cabin for a fisherman.[4]
A sauna (/ˈsɔːnə/ [1] or /ˈsaʊnə/;[2][3] Finnish pronunciation: [ˈsɑunɑ])
is a small room or house designed as a place to experience dry or wet
heat sessions, or an establishment with one or more of these and
auxiliary facilities. The steam and high heat make the bathers perspire.
Saunas can be divided into two basic styles: conventional saunas that
warm the air or infrared saunas
that warm objects. Infrared saunas may use various materials in their
heating area such as charcoal, active carbon fibers, and other
materials.
I was first introduced to "sauna" in high school. Our headmaster was Sweedish. In his ambitions, he had the woodsmen/women team build a log cabin sauna, complete with a one sided deck, changing room. and year round outside shower. It was the cats meow.
Later in life after hard winters, working in dairy barns, sore muscles I started swearing that I would "NOT GO THROUGH ANOTHER VERMONT WINTER" without a sauna. We have finally arrived at that place in life, where we have our spot on planet earth, and built ourselves a sauna.
In addition to the definitions of sauna, I was taught that one of the objects is to draw your blood out to the epidermis, making your skin a breathing organ, and oxygenating your blood. We do this by heating for ten to fifteen minuets and then cooling, in a series of three to four heating sessions.
For us, sauna happens on Sunday night. It is a chance to gather ourselves prior to the week starting. It is a chance to let out toxins, reinvigorate, and fill up on fluids. It is a spiritual space collecting ourselves, and cleaning ourselves from the inside out.
A small diversified farm offering fresh raw milk, veggies, eggs, and other farm treats!
Monday, September 22, 2014
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Living in the moment...a bunch of bullshit
I am living in the moment. It is the "in" thing to say if you are a new age, organic, homesteadie, semi spiritual person. As if some how we have successfully high jacked cultural buddhism for a long enough period of time, that we now get to claim that phrase as our own.
Bullshit. That phrase is for lost people. People raising kids and farming we know dam straight that there are only two moments to live in. It is impossible to live in any other moment. The two moments are: 1.) my kiddo needs me right now, and 2.) I don't need you right now but I will shortly. That is it.
As for the farm there are also two moments 1.) I need to work, and 2.) I need to rest. Thats it. It is the construct for which our life is framed, without any more searching or heady self reflection. The process for accepting this is your life is short, deliberate, and above all necessary.
That is the news from the Symphony, where all the notes are harmonies, the fiddles are tuned and the fingers are calloused.
Bullshit. That phrase is for lost people. People raising kids and farming we know dam straight that there are only two moments to live in. It is impossible to live in any other moment. The two moments are: 1.) my kiddo needs me right now, and 2.) I don't need you right now but I will shortly. That is it.
As for the farm there are also two moments 1.) I need to work, and 2.) I need to rest. Thats it. It is the construct for which our life is framed, without any more searching or heady self reflection. The process for accepting this is your life is short, deliberate, and above all necessary.
That is the news from the Symphony, where all the notes are harmonies, the fiddles are tuned and the fingers are calloused.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
We bought the farm...and it is still sinking in
It has been a long struggle to get where we are. Much like climbing mountains, and focusing on each and every step. Applying more focus, effort, and concentration when the steps are agonizing, painful and defeating. Keeping your head straight when all you want to do is give up because it is never going to happen.
And like climbing mountains, when you start to reach the peak, the world has dropped away from you, your goal in sight, and the struggle melts away into an elated feeling of no longer craving a summit. Whilst standing on the summit, there is a balance of believing there is nothing left to achieve, and appreciating where you are.
We bought the farm. The long journey of working for other farmers, leasing head aches, praying on your knees for god to give you strength to get up and keep doing what you are doing; that is over. A like reaching the summit, achieving that goal there is a balance appreciating what you have accomplished, and setting another goal. To keep going.
We bought the farm. We can plant anywhere we want, build buildings, paint walls, tear out lights, put up new ones. In all honesty the goal we have reached is demanding us to make new goals, steps and accomplishments. In mountaineering there is a concept of a false peak. You see what appears to the precipice of accomplishment, and when you reach it, you can see clearly how far you actually have to go. It can be the most deflating experience. Buying the farm may be our false peak. Our true peak is five, ten, twenty years down the road. What a magnificent sight it will be.
And like climbing mountains, when you start to reach the peak, the world has dropped away from you, your goal in sight, and the struggle melts away into an elated feeling of no longer craving a summit. Whilst standing on the summit, there is a balance of believing there is nothing left to achieve, and appreciating where you are.
We bought the farm. The long journey of working for other farmers, leasing head aches, praying on your knees for god to give you strength to get up and keep doing what you are doing; that is over. A like reaching the summit, achieving that goal there is a balance appreciating what you have accomplished, and setting another goal. To keep going.
We bought the farm. We can plant anywhere we want, build buildings, paint walls, tear out lights, put up new ones. In all honesty the goal we have reached is demanding us to make new goals, steps and accomplishments. In mountaineering there is a concept of a false peak. You see what appears to the precipice of accomplishment, and when you reach it, you can see clearly how far you actually have to go. It can be the most deflating experience. Buying the farm may be our false peak. Our true peak is five, ten, twenty years down the road. What a magnificent sight it will be.
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