Swinging Pendulum of Lambing

Lambing started with a busy pace this year; a small flurry of seven lambs that grew into thirty - forty lambs each day. I’m in the midst of that pace now.   

Every lambing season I experience a certain amount of disengagement from regular living. There is disengagement from checking into online spaces, disengagement from other matters of the ranch. There is the loss of regular routine because of the pull to be involved, even if nothing can be done to make it go any different. And there is a certain detachment from emotion in order to keep going when there is so many ewes to lamb but that detachment can only hold out so long. 


Each day in a lambing season the pendulum swings in a long and wise arc between successes and failures, between feeling the highs and feeling the lows. Some times I come in from the pasture with a grin and savour how smooth it is, other times I come in cussing and/or with tears streaming. There is always one breakdown into tears during every lambing. At least one fall apart moment every year because there isn’t a birthing season that doesn’t offer up some huge injustice of life and purpose and let you know without a doubt that you hold no control over some matters - that you are not supposed to hold control. That admission is tough. The pendulum swings. 

Lambing is the one occurrence that causes me to wonder if we’re doing things right even though I know the irrelevance of measuring right and wrong to begin with. There are just too many moments of wanting success and until I get to the finished side of lambing it’s tough to hold the whole purposefulness of it in my head and not get overly swayed by the days highlight or lowlight. It requires a bit of faith that all will be well.  




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