February 24, 2016

The Shed

I’m in a shed in the middle of nowhere.

There is a small wood-burning stove that is falling short of its only duty, and the girl next to me just pulled out an extra pair of socks to place on her feet.

The wind has been howling for hours. I’m on my third cup of tea, and it hasn’t stopped swirling since I arrived. Each gust tears through the chimney to greet us, threatening the electricity.

For the weeks leading up to my journey, those that learned of my destination only stared blankly through the filter of confusion and asked, “Why? What could possibly be in Cardigan?”

I wasn’t completely sure how to answer the question, but found that most of the conversation could be steered by showing them where Wales is located on a map.

After a daunting ten hours of travel, I arrived with jetlag, culture shock, and a suitcase large enough to fit my next three months.

When I stepped off the bus that nearly ended my life and onto the stone walkway, my phone read 17:40. It was already dark, and there were no signs of civilization in sight. Nothing was open. I was standing in the middle of a ghost town.

I couldn’t get a signal and was forced to wander into a hotel around the block. “Where the hell am I?” escaped my mind a few hundred times in the span of mere minutes, “and why am I here?”

I recounted the conversations I had had with my new boss and doubt began to circle in my brain. I had no idea where I was going to be living, what I was going to be doing, or if they would ever even find me—the address wasn’t even on Google Maps. The thought of staying at the inn sat looming as an old woman at the bar asked me if I was hiding a body in my luggage.

Soon after connecting to the wifi that I claim as sheer miracle, a skinny Welsh boy walked in, casting my name out with an inflection on the last syllable. Thank god.

Introductions were made as I greeted my fellow team members in the street. We piled into the front of a rusted Land Rover and I sat squished in the middle, trying to keep my knees to the side whenever shifting was required. We were on our way to my new home and needed to pick up hay for the donkeys along the way.

Thinking of this moment makes me laugh.

I still don’t understand how I got here, why I was chosen for this job, or what the following months will hold, but I know that I am sitting in the most magical shed in the world.

In it are the creators, builders, and masterminds behind The Do Lectures and all that it touches. Though I have only been here for a handful of days, I can confidently say that they are some of the kindest, most inspiring individuals I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

The next twelve weeks might possibly house the coldest hours of my life, but I couldn’t be more hopeful or excited.

This farm has changed the lives of all who enter.

I feel honored to be here.

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