Do you sometimes think about leaving it all? Pursuing an exit strategy, not coming back? For me, there is something calming about it.
I was at the country-side over the weekend, visiting family and friends, reflecting my life in the light of others. We hiked onto a hill near-by my hometown, where a friend lives with his father in an old peasant’s house. They have the perfect view: hovering over lake Lucerne, surrounded by sleeping white giants aka the alps, the air so crisp, you would wanna inhale it. There we sat, eating fondue, vin du valais, Grappa and Pastis, flawlessly connecting completely dissimilar worlds. My friend and his father work with horses and on the field. They are people without preconceptions, rough-skinned and clear-eyed, the perfect german attribute for them would be «kernig» – «coreful».
The other fork-holders around the fondue-pot: a doctor, a lawyer, a curator, a product-manager, me. We talked about living in the city and the ups and downs of it. Everyone was talking about how hard they have been working recently. And everyone knew: They will not do their current job for a long time. There is a need for an exit strategy. Except for the farmers. They feel fine.
Equation of the farmers life
Amount of horseshit in their lives: a lot.
Amount of bullshit in their lives: almost zero.
When we left, we had to hike back through the snow, lighting our ways with burning torches. I looked back. The peasant’s house layed in the dark, embedded in the dark background of the sparkling sky. They are living closer to the stars, I thought, and I felt calmer.