The tractor broke
Once in a while I stop long enough to remember who I am. There was a time when who I am was a very simple question to answer. In fact, the exploration of this question became overshadowed by another question: What am I? Thus began the journey.
And so it has come to the point, it seems, that what I am is fueling my actions, much more than who I am. Perhaps balanced is needed.
I stopped this week because my tractor broke. The lever controlling the Power Take Off (PTO) just sort of gave out, and there was suddenly no way to stop the sharp, metal tines from spinning a couple inches from my shins.
… What had to be done was till the beds. But maybe who I was meant I was a little more relaxed about this, and that risking my legs wasn’t totally necessary right then and there…