Returning to the Heart of It All

The other night, I was walking through the garden with our toddler beside me, picking peas from the vines.

My first thought was, Do we have enough peas for a few pints to sell at the market this weekend?

I stopped in my tracks.

Did I really just think that?

How did I get here?

Not because there is anything wrong with selling peas. We love farming, and we love sharing the fruits of our labor with our community. It is a privilege to grow food for other families.

What caught me off guard was that years ago my first thought would have been something entirely different.

Do we have enough for dinner?

That simple moment has had me reflecting on why we started this journey in the first place.

Mckaiden Farm was never supposed to be about maximizing production, filling every market slot, or squeezing every possible dollar out of a crop. It began because we wanted to feed our family well. We wanted our children to know where their food came from. We wanted to spend our days learning old skills, caring for animals, and growing nourishing food.

Somewhere along the way, as many small farms do, the balance shifted.

When you start selling what you grow, there is always pressure to produce more. More customers. More products. More markets. More efficiency. More revenue.

There is nothing inherently wrong with any of those things. A farm needs income to survive.

The challenge is making sure the business does not slowly crowd out the very reason you started.

Lately, I have been wrestling with that reality.

New Jersey is not an easy place to farm. Not because farmers here are unwilling to work hard, but because the logistics and economics can be overwhelming.

Insurance costs continue to rise. Inspection fees add up. Market fees add up. Equipment costs add up. Regulations grow more complex each year. For small farmsteads trying to generate supplemental income while feeding their own families, the weight can feel crushing at times.

Many of these regulations were created with good intentions. However, they often seem designed for larger operations and can place an enormous burden on small producers.

Sometimes it feels as though there is very little room left to simply farm.

To plant a garden.

To raise a few animals.

To sell a little extra.

To breathe.

I do not have all the answers.

What I do know is that I never want the business side of farming to completely overshadow the heart behind it.

I never want to walk through the garden and forget that before those peas are a product, they are food.

Before they are inventory, they are nourishment.

Before they are income, they are part of the reason we started this journey.

I still love this life.

I love the community we have found through it.

I love sharing good food, knowledge, and experiences with others.

Perhaps this season is simply reminding me that growth is not always about doing more. Sometimes growth means returning to what mattered in the first place.

~ LO