In 2025, I've found myself letting go and moving forward in a very tangible way: we have moved our main office functions over to the Nueva Vida Clinic.

Those of you who know us will know that we have never kept work and home life separate. For many years, our office was in the house – we would have meetings on our front porch, a few feet from Joseph’s dresser. In the mornings, organic farmers meeting about sesame prices bore witness to what happens when you try to get a clothing-averse toddler into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

The computers and printer were literally in the middle of the house, so to get from the washing machine to the bathroom, you walked through the office. Our delegations of 25 people slept in the house with us – sharing bedrooms and bathrooms with us.

As the work grew, having it so intertwined with home life became unsustainable. First, we built a dorm for the groups, then we moved the office to a little house in our yard where six to eight of us shared a bedroom and literal closet space. We had a living area separating us from the offices of the co-ops we worked with. Later, the co-ops moved out and we moved the groups off-site (nowadays at Casa Ben Linder).

In 2017, we moved the office out to the former volunteer dorm. Sarah made 10 cozy work spaces for everyone, separated by our extensive file archive.

Since then, our work has changed so much. Some changes have been good, many have been hard: since Pat died, no one has sat at her desk. Since office admin Diana left, four of us have rotated through her former space trying to fill her shoes. COVID quarantine cleared out Mike, Sarah and Kathy (Kathleen was already working from her bedroom; Daniel, Claudia and Neil work from their phones wherever they happen to be). While I miss them, I know they need to take steps toward retiring, and having physical space between them and the work has helped them to let go a little.

Lately, our accountant Teresa and I have been alone in the office. Mostly I swing by to check on her, grab something, and head over to the clinic, off to Casa Ben Linder, to meetings, or to run errands. The office had become a placeholder.

So last week while we were closed for the holidays, I took the time to reduce our files to facilitate the move. I started on files way back before I arrived in Nicaragua 25 years ago, and went through my whole history with the JHC. I remembered many wonderful things, and I found evidence of projects that, for one reason or another, fell by the wayside (adios, biodiesel, you were fun while you lasted!).

I chose to let go of all that, which can weigh us down. I am letting go of an office that no longer fulfills our needs. I am sad that I won’t have our amazing Founding Generation (aka The Old Farts) twenty steps away anymore, but I know they’re still just a phone call away.

I am embracing the new: During vacation I arranged Teresa's office for her so she could come in and find things already where they needed to be. I rearranged my space in the clinic admin office - I’ve been there part time for more than two years, but never really moved in. I set up a space for Shaggy, who has been perched on a tiny school desk at a borrowed computer for two years. This Friday we had our first staff meeting with everyone in the new space, it felt good.

As I arranged our now-tattered office couch and armchairs in preparation, I remembered their origin story fondly. In 2001, I rode in the back of our brand-new pickup truck up to Masatepe, a town known for its furniture, with Connie Potter and Jeremy Thaler, owners of Once Again Nut Butter. Connie and I stood up in the back of the truck, hanging on to the cab, for the hour and a half trip there and back. She was in heaven, chin uplifted, eyes closed as she drank in the wind. At the store, Connie picked out a garishly colored living room set with a fish theme.

Behold, the couch on the left!

One of the many, many, many meetings that were held on and around the fish couch, doing what we can to make sure that every decision taken was the next right thing for the farmers and the community we help.

That fish furniture has followed our office around for nearly a quarter of a century, and has helped facilitate conversations in every aspect of our work. Today, it sits in our admin office at the clinic, in hopes that it will inspire more conversation, communication, and connection.

Welcome 2025, we're ready for you!

Becca

The New Year: a time to let go and move forward.

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