Patience of a Logger

Patience: the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.

We have all heard it, “Patience is a virtue.” I have thought a lot about this lately, because let’s be honest… all of our patience has been tested over the past year to an extent many of us didn’t know was possible. A virtue is a commendable quality or a trait, so it sounds like patience is something we should all be striving to have more of. When I think about our timber harvesting industry and all of the good family folks who just bust their butts day after day, year after year, generation after generation, there is no group of people more patient.

There is a lot of talk swirling around about the cost of lumber which has about tripled and there is a bit of a campaign out there pointing out that we, as loggers and landowners, are not the ones reaping the benefits. I can’t say exactly where all of the money is going and quite frankly, that isn’t much of my business. I own a business or two and if I was in a position to reap some major profits while still maintaining my strong values and morals, then you can bet your butt I would! See, big companies with stock holders and deep pockets run quarter to quarter. Most of those involved are not patient. They are not emotionally connected to their work. Maybe they like the highs of big profits and shutter at the fear of a collapse, but loggers? Landowners? They are the epitome of patient.

Patience is frustrating. It is frustrating because you fight and you push. You try again and again. We get creative, think out of the box, adjust, and keep pushing down the road and then BAM you have no control. Mills close, weather changes, pandemics hit, someone breaks a leg… what ever it is, something happens. The real work of patience doesn’t start until something doesn’t start or finish on time. Most of us think we are patient, but I would argue that this pandemic has proven that our patience hadn’t really been tested much. In my 37 years of life, it has been pretty cushy. No wars in my back yard, no major depression, no rationing of food, free to be who I am and do what I want. I didn’t have to fight for my rights as a woman, stand in ration lines, or send my husband off to war. Everything occurring in the forest products industry has forced us to step back, demonstrate our patience, and make a plan.

To conquer this frustration, we have to surrender to the fact that we don’t know what’s next or for how long this will go on. I think loggers have this surrendering down packed. Since the beginning of timber harvesting, they have had to surrender to all things out of their control. The weather, mill prices, supply and demand. They have surrendered, and how ironic it is that in order to gain control over our frustrations and demonstrate patience, we first have to surrender. Right now, we have no control over the price of lumber, we have no control really over how much they pay us. So first we must surrender, step back and make a plan.

Many loggers are experiencing a war in their heads between patience and impatience. How do you continue to fight when you just don’t see the reward at the end. I will tell you. Loggers and landowners will continue because they aren’t here for the next quarter. They don’t sell out when the markets change. They aspire to have generations of their family benefit from the land not just a quarterly profit.

Here is a story about a farmer which I heard and it resonated with me because loggers are farmers of the forest:

There was a farmer who lived in a community of farmers and he discovered that if he planted something different than everyone else, his family would benefit. He discovered that if he planted bamboo it would grow to 90 ft and it would provide for a lifetime of utility for his family. After the first year of diligently watering and caring for his crop, nothing grew. Another year passed, and nothing. Year 3 came and the villagers starting laughing at him, saying he was a fool to try to grow something different. Year 4, nothing. On the fifth year he continued to be habitual in his pursuit to grow this bamboo. The villagers started to squash his dreams. On the 6th year, it sprouted and in 6 weeks it grew the entire 90 ft.

The patience of this farmer is the patience of a farmer of the forest. Trees don’t grow over night. Logging businesses don’t grow over night. If you’re waiting for your harvest and you feel depleted, don’t give up, for year six is just around the corner. If you believe it, it will come.