Musings - Life in the Country
In May last year, we bought a little 1910 red brick cottage in Gunning, New South Wales. Buying a home in the country felt like a natural choice for us. We’ve felt a pull towards the country life for as long as I could remember. But we found when we told people we’d bought a cottage in Gunning the response was often ‘What? Why Gunning, there’s nothing there’. And without a moment to even think of a response, the words would just fall out of my mouth: ‘That’s exactly why’.
You see our family, like so many others, lives a very full, fast-paced life. Juggling full-time jobs, shift work, a large street food festival, an elite basketball program, uni and school timetables and casual work with only two cars was making our lives pretty frantic.
When I look back at it, I have a feeling that the universe was trying to tell us something. That we needed to change. We needed to slow down. We needed to get back to basics as a family unit to remind us what really matters.
And as we enter into the early stages of this coronavirus pandemic, it’s had me thinking that perhaps our little country home has given our family a head start when it comes to adjusting to this temporary new way of life, because country life seems so similar.
I’ve learned that in the country, things aren’t readily available like they are in the city. Supermarkets aren’t open 24 hours, there aren’t a great variety of grocery items on the shelves, healthcare isn’t at your fingertips and there isn’t a lot of options when it comes to cafes, restaurants and shops so eating out is limited.
I’ve learned in the country that our city lifestyle has been over stimulating our kids. When we first started spending time in Gunning, it was a hard adjustment for my teenager children. We never taught them to be ‘bored’. Instead, we provided them with constant entertainment by filling their weekends and holidays with things to do.
We were too busy to take the time to show them how to find the beauty in the basics and how the basics are just as stimulating as the materialistic and technical world we are living in.
I’ve learned in the country that this is how I spent my childhood. Riding around the streets with friends, going to the park, using my imagination to create a world outside. I was never once bored.
I’ve learned in the country that taking a walk down to the railway to watch the sunset with the family isn’t boring—it’s a time to just walk and talk. The history of the streets opens up conversations full of imagination and mystery. These conversations often reveal fears and moments of inspiration. Things you wouldn’t normally know about unless you take that walk.
We were too busy to take the time to show them how to find the beauty in the basics and how the basics are just as stimulating as the materialistic and technical world we are living in.
I’ve learned in the country that this is how I spent my childhood. Riding around the streets with friends, going to the park, using my imagination to create a world outside. I was never once bored.
I’ve learned in the country that taking a walk down to the railway to watch the sunset with the family isn’t boring—it’s a time to just walk and talk. The history of the streets opens up conversations full of imagination and mystery. These conversations often reveal fears and moments of inspiration. Things you wouldn’t normally know about unless you take that walk.
I’ve learned in the country that the population is smaller, the air is cleaner, the birds are louder and the streets are wider. There is less mind clutter and more headspace to think about not much at all. And with that comes less stress and more inner calm.
I’ve learned in the country that farmers and their families often live in isolation every day of the week and they are the calmest, most resilient people I’ve met.
I’ve learned in the country that it feels amazing to walk into the local café and be greeted by your name. It feels unbelievable to be part of a small community and to receive text messages asking if you need your garden watered or if you need your bins brought in because your neighbours are constantly looking out for others.
I’ve learned in the country that it’s what the country doesn’t have that makes it so special. I’ve learned that the country is a great teacher and maybe this pandemic is like living in the country. And maybe this pandemic will teach us all to slow down, live simply and find the beauty in the small things and hold our families and communities closer.
