Lessons from the Land: What Homesteading Is Teaching Us About Surrender

One of the greatest lessons this lifestyle has taught us is that sometimes, the only real choice is to surrender.

We’ve been living fully off-grid for over a year now and on our land for nine months. When we arrived—fresh off the boat, wide-eyed and full of plans—we imagined that by now we’d be growing all of our own vegetables, running a thriving glamping site, selling fresh produce at local markets, and well into the renovation of our little ruin, which will one day be our home.

Ambitious? Just a bit.

Yes, we’ve made progress. Our veggie garden is thriving (along with the weeds!), and we’re learning to grow and preserve our own food. But the truth? Everything is moving so much slower than we imagined. Running a homestead, managing two major building projects, starting a tourism venture, and handling the daily demands of off-grid life—it’s a reality that unfolds slowly, not at the pace our eager minds first envisioned. Especially since the full heat of summer kicked in - it’s too hot to even attempt any kind physical work past midday.

This year has reminded us just how little control we have over nature’s timeline. An incredibly wet spring was followed by a scorching start to summer, leaving us devoting countless hours to land clearing just to keep things manageable. Our vegetable beds have been abundant, but so has the relentless weeding. Even our fruit trees have taught us hard lessons—our fig trees were heavy with ripe fruit one day, and just 48 hours later, many had split and spoiled under the heat.

We’re finding our footing, partnering with a local food co-operative to share our excess produce, and slowly learning how to tend this land. At the same time, Jeff’s engineering and construction business has taken off like wildfire—an incredible blessing, but one that pulls him away from the homestead projects we hoped would be further along by now.

Some days, the enormity of it all feels overwhelming. We catch ourselves wondering, “What have we taken on?” and lose sight of how far we’ve already come.

This time last year, our lives looked nothing like they do now. It’s easy to forget that when you’re knee-deep in weeds or staring at a half-finished project.

But here’s the truth we keep coming back to: when you live this way, nature is the boss. Not us.

So we practice surrender.

Every day, we make it a ritual to pause, look around, and feel gratitude—for the abundance our land provides, for the beauty that surrounds us, for the chance to live this dream even when it feels hard. We hold tight to our vision of what we’re building here and trust that, as long as we keep showing up and doing the work, things will unfold exactly when they’re meant to.

Sometimes surrender isn’t about giving up. It’s about trusting that the land, the seasons, and life itself have their own timing—and all we can do is walk alongside them.