The Kitchen Sink Series from Slow Folk is a raw and imperfect podcast for rabble-rousers, dawdlers, late-bloomers and taboo-breakers, thirsty for a slower life in a world obsessed with speed.
Unscripted and unedited - straight from my kitchen sink.
This is a free preview of The Kitchen Sink Series - created especially for our paid community. We’d love to see you inside! - S
I’ve been in the shit lately.
Things have been hectic and busy and too-much and also absolutely life-affirming and joyful.
There was a time in my life where this level of . . . what . . . too much? Overwhelm? Overstimulation? Frenetic effort? Would have sent me into a spiral of anxiety and depression.
The story I told myself would have focused on the big feelings of overwhelm and stress. They would have become proof positive that I’m not cut out for this.
I’d tell myself something like -
See - I bit off more than I can chew. Again. Why did I think I could do this? I shouldn’t have even tried. I was foolish to think I had it in me. I want this big juicy life but I should have known I don’t have what it takes. I should have just stayed where I was. I was miserable, but maybe that’s where I belong. Who do I think I am to try something so audacious? I’m going to fall flat on my face and everyone is going to see. I’m such a fraud. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, I’m never going to be able to figure all this out. I shouldn’t have even tried. . .
You get the idea. Sound familiar?
So many of us - especially us sensitive, introverted, people-pleasing, perfectionist women - have that awful tape playing in our heads.
And the trouble is, I think - that we try to fight her.
We come at her head-on, guns blazing, forgetting that she is us.
I don’t know who said it, but this quote sums it up: You will stop fighting the waves once you realize - you are the ocean.
What if, instead of trying to fight her, we made room for her?
What if we could turn our attention to creating internal expanses large enough to hold our multitudes of self?
To hold more than one feeling at a time? To make space for both the ocean and her waves?
What if instead of telling ourselves the story that we aren’t enough because things are hard, we shift our narrative?
What if instead we say things like -
This feels hard because I am doing something brave and that is worth celebrating.
Yes, this is a lot right now and it is also exactly where I need to be.
I can feel afraid and experience self-doubt and also know in my heart that I am on the right track.
Suddenly we might find that we are capable of holding more than one feeling at the same time.
Social media and our online world of divisive, split-second judgements, glorification of outrage has narrowed our human experience to superficial clickbait headlines and shallow, contextless soundbites.
Could it be that we feel unmoored and angry, depressed and lonely and anxious because this world we are building doesn’t reflect the truth of who we are?
That it constricts the possibility of experience to 140 characters or less?
That it limits our once boundless attention to an paltry average of just 47 seconds?
No wonder we have lost the ability to contain an internal sense nuance and harmonious contradiction. How could we possibly? We don’t have time.
Cultivating a practice of both / and, also / and is an act of resistance and rebellion in our modern attention economy.
Nourishing a rebellious expansiveness, a nuanced sense of self, is a rejection of the narrow, shallow, pigeon-holed world we inhabit.
It creates space for texture of thought, deep experience, insight, empathy and self-compassion.
It affords us courage to ask more beautiful questions of both ourselves and the world around us - and most importantly to actually be open to the answers - as wide and varied as they may be.
I want a big, joyful, wholehearted life.
In order to have that, I must be open to both the rough and the smooth, to lean into both simultaneously, knowing that each nourishes and enriches the other.
To mindfully cultivate an expansiveness within the space beneath my ribs, that I might make room for each part of myself, to end the war of self-flagellation and finally learn to practice gratitude for ALL the parts of myself.
To recognize that there is space, both in my garden and in my internal landscape for both the flowers AND the weeds.
Stacey Langford is a writer, renegade farmer and slow business mentor living and working in Canada’s Fraser Valley. In 2010 Stacey ditched her cubicle in the city to turn her attention homeward, farm and help others craft a simple life, from scratch.
Are you ready to build a life - and a living - you actually love?
I help rebellious solopreneurs and creatives build businesses rooted in Slow Values. If you’re ready to step into your own Slow Life and finally claim your calling, let’s chat!
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