It's not going to happen overnight

What is the most difficult part of going bush for the city slicker?
Learning to be patient.
The most repeated piece of counselling from city friends was
"You'll go nuts waiting" 
"No one hurries in the country, it'll take you years."


So when the list of projects started to mount up, I was determined not to let my citified hyperactivity get the better of me. A Buddhist approach seemed the obvious answer. My mantra became -- ' it's not going to happen overnight.'  


A covert click onto Wikipedia confirmed that my method had every chance of success. I learned that 'a mantra is a group of words capable of creating transformation.'   Ah ha! I'll transform myself ... or if that fails I'll transform the sleepy bush. A win win scenario!

Sitting on the floor meditating on ---' it's not going to happen overnight' doesn't come easily to a brand new ex city slicker, Buddhist. The sense of urgency still eats away in the background.
'While I'm sitting here I could be doing something!!'
I was failing before I'd even begun when another ancient philosopher came to my rescue. Back in Greece before they sentenced him to death by drinking hemlock, Socrates thrived on creating debates by posing questions and working through the possible answers.  My Socratic dialogue went something like this
Do I need my old world?  
Why am I attempting to leave the city behind me?
to which I answered


I know I can do without the text message saying --'we're nearly there -- oh look down the street,  I'm waving I can see you already!!'
and if I place an order online will it kill me if it is not on my doorstep in 24 hours.  
OK it might if I have a life threatening illness requiring online only medication, but I don't.
I could hear the master Socrates saying -   who needs instant gratification and why?

The first test came with the order of recycled timber from the local second hand materials yard. It's an Alladins cave to some and a confusing yard full of left overs and rejects to others. It's run by a crew straight out of central casting.  The delivery truck must have come from the props department circa 1954. If you remember 'Steptoe & Son' then you have the picture.

Delivery was looking dicey-- the truck was tied up for the next few days  -- there was some debate that the timber wasn't available in the right lengths -- the delivery driver had another part time job somewhere else.
Hmm...   Socrates to the rescue!!

'Not a problem'  I said.  'There's no rush, we have lots of other projects to carry on with.'

So back on the farm the job requiring the timber was put on the back burner. There were blackberries to kill and sheds to fix.

One and a half hours later an ancient truck came gasping down the road, turned at our gate and chugged up the track, the central casting crew had arrived at Apple Gully.

The timber was delivered.
Beat that in the city.  Not likely!