Matt Groeneveld – Counselling Therapist

Matt writes for AgWell Alberta and below is a sampling of a couple of his articles.  Enjoy.

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Good while it lasts: Optimistically bracing for it

After a soggy start of the growing season, our crops are getting some much needed heat. The ground is covered green, canola and peas are flowering, and it’s Stampede, which means anyone with cows is getting ready for haying. Things look a lot different than they did a few years ago, when discussion revolved around mitigating the effects of drought. Now the sloughs are filled, new ones calved from the slightest imprint, and some struggle to find a dry enough window for spraying. Not a typical year.

In this corner of the world, it looks like a strong start. September is a long way off. With the wisdom of not counting chickens before they hatch, my dad, ever grounded, always said, It’s not in the bin yet. Not one to make a sport of curbing optimism, he knows, like any farmer, never to be surprised and that things will change.

There’s time yet. With the heat comes the risk of hail. Following a storm system earlier in the month, some producers are reporting losses already this season. Depending on the damage, the slow start might mean the plants will recover. For now we’re either making claims or waiting.

While we wait, we remain optimistic while bracing for the worst. It’s a balancing act farmers know well. We make plans for the farm, the family, and the future—plans strong enough to motivate us, but held loosely enough to survive whatever comes next. Only farmers manage expectations like a riverbed manages water. We yield to nature.

Waiting is often the hardest part. There’s little left to do but watch the forecast, inspect the fields, and wonder what tomorrow will bring. The stress of living in the “what ifs” before anything has actually happened is a familiar feeling in agriculture. We prepare for the worst because we know it’s possible, but if we’re not careful, we can start living through tomorrow’s problems before they arrive.

The challenge isn’t pretending everything will work out. It’s learning to hold hope and uncertainty at the same time. We do what we can today, knowing much of what happens next is beyond our control. That’s not resignation; it’s resilience.

September will come; for now it’s July. In the briefest of seasons, let’s find something to enjoy. Remember why you do it, what and who you love. We’re off to a great start, and that’s worth being grateful of, even if it’s not in the bin yet.

And if you had the grit not to get rid of the cows like the rest of us, happy haying!

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Comparison Fatigue

It’s July. The quiet days of winter seem distant, the trials of seeding mostly forgotten, and the winds of spring calmed (for now). The slow tug-of-war between freeze and thaw, that jagged dance to an erratic tempo, the air gives up its cold, and the land warms. That’s almost forgotten. The earth circled around. The sun came around as it always does. And the seeds were planted (hopefully).

Now we wait. On the ground we look to the crops and assess the health of the plants and soil. Speculate on production and prepare for the push of harvest. We draw rough estimates and watch the markets. Things look good, but it’s not in the bin. Things look rough, but there’s time yet. Things look ok, but not as good as the neighbours’.

We don’t know yet. And comparisons are tempting. We drive past the same sections every time we leave the house. It’s hard not to wonder. What did or didn’t happen? Sometimes it’s obvious. Sometimes it seems the rain falls everywhere but here. Disease strikes, and it’s only happening here. Or it appears to. And it looks that way because it feels that way.

All farmers juggle uncertainty. And all the skills mastered and applied may or may not payoff. You can have the best equipment, and things can still surprise you. Will surprise you. With so much out of a farmer’s control, there’s a need to find order and control in some aspect of life, some sense of influence over one’s own happiness.

One’s efforts, successes, and mistakes are at times highly visible and are often a topic of conversation. Some competitiveness can teach us, but it can consume our thinking. When it becomes a measure by which we evaluate our labour, the standards can become inflated and unrealistic. It can become internalized and feed self-hatred.

If you’re going to compare, include the spectrum. There are always plots on either side. Zoom out a bit and include more evidence in your evaluation. Before you condemn yourself, look for areas that are going well or do seem promising.

Be curious. Talk to the neighbour. You might learn something. Even if it’s just that he got lucky.

And for now, while we don’t know, enjoy the reprieve. Rest while you can. Catching up on whatever you put down before seeding. Go to the lake. Date your wife. Spend time with the kids.