The years came together like a tapestry, weaving in all the moments of our lives and reminding us why we chose this path.

That time when our eldest (then around six years old) came in from playing outside holding two tiny wild raspberries in his outstretched palm and proclaimed that he had harvested them "from the bounty of their land."

Making fire-baked pizzas in the oven of the masonry stove — and that same stove keeping us warm in below-zero temperatures when the primary heating system went out.

An elderly neighbor who had lived in the area since he was a boy stopping in his tracks while visiting the garden because he'd heard the song of a bobolink. He noted that he hadn't heard them on their farm in years, but on our homestead, the birds returned — along with salamanders, frogs, butterflies, and all sorts of other wildlife.

Gathering with friends and family around the table and having Grandpa Gus say, "I don't like cucumbers, but I like your cucumbers." Ours were the only vegetables he would eat with enjoyment.

The first harvests from trees and shrubs planted in those early years, and pressing cider in our very own apple press. Looking forward to sharing harvests from trees like the maples and Carpathian walnuts with future generations, once our sons find their special someones.

This is Part 5 of Letters from the Homestead, a special six-part series leading up to the Resilient Living Summit.

Some of the best parts of building a more resilient life have very little to do with surviving disasters.

They're about having more life in our lives.

Good food around the table. Watching our children grow. Seeing wildlife return. Planting trees that may still be feeding people long after we're gone.

Preparedness gives us options when things go wrong, and that's important. But the point isn't simply to become harder to kill. I'll leave that particular talent to the cockroaches.

The point is to protect and nurture the things that make life worth living.

That idea came up in a very real way during my latest Stories of Resilience conversation with Cliff, The Urban Prepper.

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Stories of Resilience: Cliff the Urban Prepper

Cliff's interest in preparedness grew during the Great Recession and became more important when he married and had children. But his first major lesson in resilience came much earlier.

When Cliff was only 20 years old, he was diagnosed with a rare type of tumor growing on his heart. It was roughly the size of a grapefruit. He started chemotherapy, and eventually underwent open-chest surgery, and has now been cancer-free for more than 20 years.

The treatment saved his life, but it also damaged his heart. Today he lives with congestive heart failure and relies on daily medications to help keep him healthy.

So we talked about something that doesn't always get much attention in preparedness circles: What do you do when your most important preparedness challenge is your own health?

We talked about medications and backup supplies, physical fitness, knowledge, and taking practical steps to care for yourself.

But we also talked about something that's much harder to put on a preparedness checklist.

Cliff now has a wife and three children, including a new baby. He wants to be there to watch them grow up. He wants to see what they do with their lives. And he wants to leave something worthwhile behind for them.

I told him that along with whatever medical care and other health practices he chooses, I thought there was another important way he could strengthen his heart:

Love his family, and allow himself to receive their love in return.

Because sometimes the strongest reason to keep going isn't fear of what might happen.

It's love for what you already have — and hope for what is still to come.

A Life Worth Preparing For

Resilience is a skill that is honed by experience, inspired by others who have traveled a similar path, and given purpose by those we care about.

Here on our homestead, some of that legacy is easy to see. It's growing in the orchard, the gardens, the maples and walnut trees we hope will feed generations we haven't met yet.

But you don't need 35 acres — or any land at all — to build something that lasts.

Maybe your legacy is a child who knows how to cook because you taught them. A neighbor who knows they can knock on your door when the power goes out. A family recipe passed down another generation. A community garden, a skill shared, a friendship nurtured, or simply people who are more capable and confident because you took the time to help them.

We all plant things. Some of them just don't grow in soil.

That's a big part of why Amber and I created the Resilient Living Summit.

We wanted to bring together people with real-world experience — people who have grown food, weathered emergencies, cared for their families, built more resilient homes, learned traditional skills, changed course when life demanded it, and kept going.

From September 14–19, more than 20 experienced teachers will share what they've learned, so you can put that knowledge to work in your own life.

The Summit is completely FREE to attend, and each presentation will be available free for 48 hours.

Reserve your FREE Resilient Living Summit pass → https://resilientlivingsummit.com/summit-registration/​

Want More Time to Learn?

If six days sounds like a lot to squeeze into an already busy life, that's exactly why we created the All-Access Pass + Resilient Living Toolkit.

The All-Access Pass gives you lifetime access to the Summit presentations, so you can watch them when you actually have time to absorb what you're learning. The Toolkit adds a collection of classes, ebooks, guides and other practical resources contributed by our presenters.

One important heads-up: the Early Bird price ends when the Summit begins on Monday. After that, the price goes up.

So if you've already been thinking about getting lifetime access, there's no advantage to waiting until next week.

​Get the All-Access Pass + Toolkit before the price goes up →​

​https://resilientlivingsummit.com/all-access/​

Whether you join us for free or choose All-Access, I hope you'll be there.

We can't know exactly what life will bring next.

But we can keep learning. We can grow and preserve good food, take better care of our homes and our health, build stronger connections, and pass useful knowledge along to the people who come after us.

And along the way, we can remember to enjoy the life we're working so hard to make more resilient.

Talk soon,

Laurie