The Farm: A Dream I Have

There are these ideas I have, which are important to me, but I keep them a secret from most people. These ideas are nothing more than tiny dreams of mine. I’ve had them for as long as I can remember. I have always had them, the dreams, I mean.
Of course, I have dreams. I’m alive, aren’t I? I believe anyone with a heart has dreams.
Don’t you?

I have hopes too. I have a picture in my mind of a place I’d like to build someday. I have a sunset I can see during the early days of autumn, which is golden in the sky. The final remnants of sunlight hits the ground in such a way before retiring for the evening and giving way to the moon.

There is a place in my heart that yearns to build something I have created from my imagination. This place does not really exist, at least, not yet. I have it though. I have pictures in my mind. I can see the surroundings. I can see the sunset here. I can see the countryside and the fields and the big red barn.

I have this place which I hold as dearly as the names of my loved ones. This place is part of me. This place is my dream. I have built this place and taken it apart. I have recreated the way everything looks. I have recreated the people that come to visit me here.

I have this idea of building a place in the mountains. I want to build a farm that is far away from the conventional world.
This is a place that is similar to a farm I lived on and helped, back when I needed someplace to go. Only, this farm belongs to me now, which means I get to recreate this in any way I choose.

I have never understood why people sit on the sidelines of someone else’s life and play judge or jury in situations they don’t really understand. Life is life and not all things are the same. Sometimes, the same rules don’t apply. Sometimes, we have different challenges that delay us from reaching our goals. Sometimes the playing field is anything but fair.

I want to build a place where shame does not exist. I want to build a place where guilt and blame gives way to understanding and accountability.
I want to build a place where people can recreate their lives  without the browbeaten ideas that minimize the difficulties we face with our challenges.

I want to build a place where kids can live. There is no such thing as bullies here. There is no abuse and there are no fears of being picked on or humiliated. No body shaming. No rumor factories or gossip mills.

I want to build a place where people learn from each other. Excessive pride gives way to humility. People can share at a place like this. We teach people here and show them how to maintain mutually beneficial relationships. We show what it means to be reciprocal; how to give and how to take.

I would like to hold classes here in which the students can teach as well. And the teachers can learn. There is no reason why we can’t learn from each other. The tired can find rest here. The hungry can find food. The anxious can find calmness and the confused can come to find clarity here. The needled arms and the junkie streets can be forgotten here. The bottles and the drinks can be somewhere else because we wouldn’t need them here.

I want to build this place and give something to the world. I want to pay back for the things I have stolen along the way. I want to create a place to empower people so they can surpass their demons and create their own angels.

This farm of mine has a name. It’s called The Second Family.

I want to build a place like this so that when I pass away and in the event that I have to stand before my creator, as I answer for my life, I want to present. I want to answer for this because I know who I’ve been. I know what I’ve done. Perhaps this is why I want to build this farm so much. I want to answer for all my faults. I want to offer my amends as penance and stand humble before my Creator and say, “I am sorry for what I was but this is what I created.” I know what I’ve done. I know what I’ve done to my fellow man, woman, and children. I know my sins very well. In fact, I used to let them call me “ME,” but not anymore.

I want to build a place to teach people about the freedom to be yourself. I want to create a class on how to shop in a supermarket (and like it). I want a basic cooking class and how to organize cupboards and shelves. I want to hold a class on love and how to express one’s self or close the door on their past and not be afraid to feel so goddamn lonely all the time.

This is a place for the abused and the shamed and the molested and the raped. This is a place for those who could not or would not dare to be themselves out of fear that somehow, they would be rejected, or refused, or worst of all, unwanted. 

I want to make up for my times and inappropriate behavior. I want to answer for what I’ve done and expose my truths so others won’t be so afraid of their own.

The Second Family is a place where we can all learn to live with each other. We can build here. We can feed each other and teach each other.
We can have lemonade when the summer comes and then warm apple cider when the colder months approach. And Christmas, well, all I can say is the warmth would be unlike anything ever told. The mood would be as beautiful as something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

I want to teach a child the wonderful idea of what it means to slide down a hill in the snow. I want to show someone that lives so deeply in their guilt and shame a reflection in the mirror and say, “Hey, look. See that amazing person in the mirror. That’s you!” and watch their shame dissolve and completely vanish away.

You would be welcome to come up whenever you’d like. You might have to work with us a little bit. The Second family is a working community. We learn to feed ourselves here. We learn to feed each other. We create here. We build and we heal.

I have this dream of me sitting in a gazebo on a hill that overlooks the farm itself. The gazebo is on one of the fields where tall grass takes on the color of tanned wheat.
The sun is on its way down and the golden hue marks the sides of the nearby mountains. I can see the way the sunlight interacts with the empty trees. I can feel the remnants of summer’s last breath before the weather turns cold. And there before me is the world I have created. This is my farm. Or should I say, this is our farm. And should so ever this happen, at the time when I face my creator, I can say thank you because I know my soul would be at peace.

Ever have a good meal on a farm and sit with people that love you? Well, if not, I’ll let you know when The Second Family opens. I would hate for you to miss out on something this amazing.

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