This is such a comforting and reassuring read. Recently I’ve been trying to let go of my rather specific vision I have for life and leave more room to let it unfold in the way it wants to unfold. This sentence captures it perfectly for me: Where I want to go isn’t a set destination. It’s not a quarterly goal. It’s a feeling. It’s a state of mind. It’s a knowing.
It's tough, isn't it. I was blessed with not being given a choice - the life I'd planned for myself burnt me out so bad that I had no choice but to allow something else some space. So make no mistake - my act of letting go wasn't the graceful swan dive I envisioned - it was a spectacular belly flop - but there are a lot of ways to 'get in the pool'.
Think about it like re-wilding . . . We just undertook a project at the farm. There are certain components that you know you'd like to be there, so you put those in, and trust that the place has a wisdom of its own. The plants that are meant to be there will take root if we make space.
Burn-out is a great redirectioner, isn’t it... I love that you use the word ReWilding as that’s the title that I chose for my substack and exactly what life feels like at the moment. Making space for the plants I want to be there is my largest challenge at the moment. I’m wondering why it’s so hard to let go of the things that no longer suit us or that we don’t even want anymore... Takes a LOT of courage in my experience.
I'm more than a decade on from the burnout that sent me in a new direction. In my experience, it gets easier with practice.
The other side of the coin is giving ourselves permission to say a wholehearted YES to what we DO want. I started small - speaking up when I wanted the last slice of cake, signing up for the yoga class I wanted to take even though I knew it would require adjustments in other's schedules . . . Sometimes something as small as buying myself flowers.
Often we think we're afraid of the nos or the failure, but its really the unknown of the yes and success that frightens us the most.
Reading this in a week where I finally found myself being kinder to my own ideas and plans about the future feels just right. As a fellow human who suffers with depression and anxiety, I'm sending you the biggest of autumnal hugs. Thank you so much for reminding me that a convoluted path (which I feel I too walk) can be just as valuable as a straightforward one <3
Thanks for that Ally. I'd also be curious about whether the 'straightforward' path is actually a myth. Often the folks who are walking the straight and narrow on the outside are doing some pretty fancy footwork in their hearts - even if it's just to sidestep that whisper we talked about.
Tearing up reading this, Stacey. Thank you so much, it was exactly what I needed to hear. I feel like my path has been so windy and uncertain, and I feel very much still in it, but I can already see the small thread beginning to uncover itself and realize that it's all connected, even if it feels like it's not.
Oh Hunter, I'm so glad. My biggest shift was realizing that it wasn't going to be some huge spotlight that lit the way, and there wasn't going to be a path - the path emerged by my walking it, often while fumbling my way in the dark. But it really has been that tiny whisper, that fine silver thread that holds the key.
My biggest lesson from my work as a farmer / gardener is that we don't have to understand the wisdom that connectedness represents in order to tap into it. We simply have to notice that it's there and remember that we are just as much connected to it as the earth worm or the songbird or the mushrooms climbing the trees in our back woods, joining soil and sky.
I feel that for sure. I always thought it would "hit me on the head" as to where I was supposed to go in life, but it really is more about just doing and figuring it out from that doing.
What beautiful insight from your farmer/gardener life. I absolutely love that, thank you so much for sharing.
Thank you for sharing your mental well-being journey this week around world mental health day, Stacey! So much wisdom in letting all that arises move through us.
I learned the term squiggly career in a workshop recently because mine looks very random to some but is so meaningful to myself.
Thanks Dave. Even on days when I want to light a match and burn it all down - so grateful to wander these thickets and shorelines and vast open spaces with such amazing humans by my side. To get to walk alongside other people who are walking in THEIR own path - whether they're chefs or writers, farmers or artists - is one of the greatest joys of my life.
This is such a comforting and reassuring read. Recently I’ve been trying to let go of my rather specific vision I have for life and leave more room to let it unfold in the way it wants to unfold. This sentence captures it perfectly for me: Where I want to go isn’t a set destination. It’s not a quarterly goal. It’s a feeling. It’s a state of mind. It’s a knowing.
It's tough, isn't it. I was blessed with not being given a choice - the life I'd planned for myself burnt me out so bad that I had no choice but to allow something else some space. So make no mistake - my act of letting go wasn't the graceful swan dive I envisioned - it was a spectacular belly flop - but there are a lot of ways to 'get in the pool'.
Think about it like re-wilding . . . We just undertook a project at the farm. There are certain components that you know you'd like to be there, so you put those in, and trust that the place has a wisdom of its own. The plants that are meant to be there will take root if we make space.
xo s
Burn-out is a great redirectioner, isn’t it... I love that you use the word ReWilding as that’s the title that I chose for my substack and exactly what life feels like at the moment. Making space for the plants I want to be there is my largest challenge at the moment. I’m wondering why it’s so hard to let go of the things that no longer suit us or that we don’t even want anymore... Takes a LOT of courage in my experience.
I'm more than a decade on from the burnout that sent me in a new direction. In my experience, it gets easier with practice.
The other side of the coin is giving ourselves permission to say a wholehearted YES to what we DO want. I started small - speaking up when I wanted the last slice of cake, signing up for the yoga class I wanted to take even though I knew it would require adjustments in other's schedules . . . Sometimes something as small as buying myself flowers.
Often we think we're afraid of the nos or the failure, but its really the unknown of the yes and success that frightens us the most.
You're very, very right. I have also ben practicing a lot with small choices. Now, onto bigger ventures!
Reading this in a week where I finally found myself being kinder to my own ideas and plans about the future feels just right. As a fellow human who suffers with depression and anxiety, I'm sending you the biggest of autumnal hugs. Thank you so much for reminding me that a convoluted path (which I feel I too walk) can be just as valuable as a straightforward one <3
Thanks for that Ally. I'd also be curious about whether the 'straightforward' path is actually a myth. Often the folks who are walking the straight and narrow on the outside are doing some pretty fancy footwork in their hearts - even if it's just to sidestep that whisper we talked about.
Take care of yourself. xo s
Tearing up reading this, Stacey. Thank you so much, it was exactly what I needed to hear. I feel like my path has been so windy and uncertain, and I feel very much still in it, but I can already see the small thread beginning to uncover itself and realize that it's all connected, even if it feels like it's not.
Oh Hunter, I'm so glad. My biggest shift was realizing that it wasn't going to be some huge spotlight that lit the way, and there wasn't going to be a path - the path emerged by my walking it, often while fumbling my way in the dark. But it really has been that tiny whisper, that fine silver thread that holds the key.
My biggest lesson from my work as a farmer / gardener is that we don't have to understand the wisdom that connectedness represents in order to tap into it. We simply have to notice that it's there and remember that we are just as much connected to it as the earth worm or the songbird or the mushrooms climbing the trees in our back woods, joining soil and sky.
Big hugs. xo s
I feel that for sure. I always thought it would "hit me on the head" as to where I was supposed to go in life, but it really is more about just doing and figuring it out from that doing.
What beautiful insight from your farmer/gardener life. I absolutely love that, thank you so much for sharing.
Thank you for sharing your mental well-being journey this week around world mental health day, Stacey! So much wisdom in letting all that arises move through us.
I learned the term squiggly career in a workshop recently because mine looks very random to some but is so meaningful to myself.
I love that word squiggly - it implies a sense of joy and play, which we might as well infuse into our journey where and when we can. Love it.
Yes right?
I think there’s a book called squiggly careers or even a concept but haven’t read it.
Stacey, You are indeed on your right path. I love this line
To allow the waves to crash over us, be buffeted by the storms of our lives, to find a way to not only survive them, but to feel gratitude for them. D
Thanks Dave. Even on days when I want to light a match and burn it all down - so grateful to wander these thickets and shorelines and vast open spaces with such amazing humans by my side. To get to walk alongside other people who are walking in THEIR own path - whether they're chefs or writers, farmers or artists - is one of the greatest joys of my life.