It’s Not the End — It’s New Beginnings

Our off grid greenhouse is ready for another season and some new beginnings. Whether you watch the video that goes along with this article or not, there are a few things that happened that morning that you won’t see on camera.

And in some ways, those moments tell an even bigger part of the story.

Before I Ever Hit Record

When I walked out to the greenhouse that morning, my intention was simple: start cleaning it up and document the process.

I brought two cameras with me—my iPhone and a DJI Action 5 camera. What you ultimately see in the video was filmed on my iPhone.

What you don’t see is what happened before that.

I am not very tech savvy. I haven’t spent enough time learning cameras, phones, tripods and all the different settings to feel completely comfortable with them. Technology can frustrate me, and that morning it definitely did.

I tried filming with the DJI camera four or five times, and it kept shutting off.

I didn’t understand why.

And I almost quit.

Actually, “almost quit” doesn’t quite explain it. I had to fight with myself not to quit.

I’ve been trying to become more disciplined about filming and documenting what we’re doing here on the ranch. But when that camera kept shutting off, it gave me the perfect excuse.

I remember thinking, Great! Now I don’t have to film. I can just go back in the house!

Because here’s another part of this that people may not know about me:

I have never particularly wanted to be in front of the camera.

I’m not embarrassed or uncomfortable with who I am. I’m very comfortable in my own skin. I’ve simply never been someone who needed or wanted the attention of being in front of a camera.

I’ve always been much more comfortable behind it.

But after fighting with myself for a few minutes that morning, I grabbed my cell phone, turned on the video, put it on the tripod and started.

And once I did?

I was okay.

I’ve Always Been More Comfortable Behind the Scenes

For many years, including during my marriage to my former husband, Billy Blanks, and my involvement in helping create and build Tae Bo, much of what I did was behind the scenes.

I worked in directing and producing capacities. I did teach classes, and for many years I worked out very hard myself, but being the person who needed to be in front of the camera was never what drove me.

Eventually, my physical abilities changed dramatically.

I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and dealt with debilitating physical limitations for more than 20 years. There were periods of my life when I needed help with the most basic things—times when I had to be carried to bed or helped to the restroom.

That is part of why what I can do today means so much to me.

I’m 68 years old.

And I can work.

I can bend. I can push a wheelbarrow full of dirt. I can pull things, lift things, clean, plant, grow and spend hours outside working with my hands.

This is living.

My children, Shellie and Billy Jr., know what those difficult years looked like, so I know it means something to them to see me physically able to do what I’m doing today.

It certainly means something to me.

Every day that I feel good enough to get outside into the fresh air and do the work that needs to be done is something I appreciate.

A Different Life

I also live a very different life today with my husband, Ramon.

There is far less stress in my life, and I cherish waking up and embracing this journey we’ve chosen together—a life where we’re working toward greater self-sustainability and building something of our own.

It isn’t always pretty.

Actually, sometimes it’s downright messy!

The Arizona wind makes sure of that.

We can clean something today and have the wind come through tomorrow and make it look like we haven’t touched it. That’s just part of living where we live.

And right now, the greenhouse definitely needs some love.

Walking Back Into the Greenhouse

When I look around our off grid greenhouse, there is a lot to do.

But surprisingly, I don’t feel overwhelmed by it.

I’m excited.

I’m excited to clean everything out, freshen things up and prepare it for new growth.

During the summer we remove some of the upper greenhouse panels for ventilation. We have netting over the openings to help keep bugs out, but that certainly doesn’t stop the desert dust and dirt from coming in—especially when the wind kicks up.

So there is always sweeping, blowing, cleaning and reorganizing to do.

Right now, there aren’t vegetables filling the greenhouse. Other than our trees, much of it is waiting.

But that’s the exciting part.

It’s waiting for what comes next.

Soon there will be seedlings.

Soon there will be plants.

Soon there will be new growth throughout the greenhouse again.

My Old Hat, My Apron and Another Beginning

If you watch our videos, you’ll probably notice that I tend to work in an apron because I have a habit of getting my clothes dirty.

Then there’s my old hat.

I’ve sewn that poor thing back together several times, but I still wear it.

And my old sunglasses aren’t exactly a fashion statement either! They’re there to protect my eyes from all the blowing dust and dirt.

That’s me.

Apron on. Old hat. Sunglasses. Ready to work.

And apparently now—a camera pointed at me too.

Who knew?

But maybe that’s part of my new beginning as well.

I pushed through my frustration that morning. I pushed through my discomfort with the camera. Instead of using something going wrong as my excuse to quit, I picked up another camera and kept going.

By the time I started working, I was happy that I had.

And as I looked around that messy greenhouse, I realized something.

It wasn’t sad to see it empty.

It wasn’t the end of something.

It was an opportunity to begin again.

Our lives have been filled with chapters like that. Things grow. Things change. Plans change. Seasons change. Sometimes something that once flourished becomes empty for a while.

That doesn’t mean the story is finished.

Sometimes you just need to clean things up, clear away what’s accumulated, prepare the ground again and turn the page.

That’s what we’re doing with our greenhouse.

And in my own little way, maybe that’s what I was doing when I finally turned that camera on too.

It’s not the end.

It’s new beginnings.

— Gayle Vincent
Get Fascinated Family Ranch