Isms: View on life in rural America

While reading a weekly email from James Clear, writer of the wildly popular book “Atomic Habits,” the author posed a question that caught my attention.

“What season are you in right now and what does that season require?”

We walk through life and experience different phases, like the changing of seasons. Right now, we’re transitioning from summer into fall, where the days cool down, school activities heat up and there’s a constant sense of motion.

I call it the season of busy. What does it require? A lot of windshield time, a moderate amount of patience, minimal sleep (I’m happy with five hours a night) and most definitely, an understanding spouse.

On the work front, there are athletic events to photograph, meetings and hearings to cover, obligations to clubs and organizations, travel time, stories to write, pictures to crop and an never-ending mound of paperwork. All in a day’s work.

Scott and his family are preparing for harvest, where productive days morph into night-time combine rides and schedules are determined by availability and weather patterns.

When our two worlds collide, its ... oh, who am I kidding ... it’s probably complete chaos we’ve adapted to and have the wherewithal to survive. Simply put, it’s just life as we know.

Truth be told, the busy season is the only life I’ve ever known. I attribute it to growing up with two teachers for parents. Our life revolved around the steady routine associated with school. My kids grew up the same way when I taught. We’d eat breakfast together, sometimes in the car on the drive to town. After the dismissal bell, the girls would tromp to my classroom and wait to ride home with me at the conclusion of speech and one-act practices or hang out until we headed to the gym for volleyball or Friday nights filled with marathon basketball games.

We survived on concession stand nachos, hot dogs and popcorn. That’s why home-cooked meals, on off-duty nights, tasted so scrumptious.

The news business mirrors the busy season/school routine lifestyle, an ingrained DNA trait fueled by a full calendar of events and responsibilities.

It’s a pretty good gig, even when 27 different projects are thrown your direction simultaneously. The busy season has its own demands and expectations, something I’m accustomed to.

I’m not sure if, or when, I’ll be ready for a season of idleness. I don’t think I’m built that way.