Once upon a time there was a woman who loved many different things. She was a momma and loved being home with her littles, cherishing the moments that she knew were fleeting. To be the soft expanse they were attached to. She loved cooking and baking, nourishing people’s bellies and hearts through the comfort of food. She loved writing and surprised even herself by what she wrote. She loved holistic health and wellness, she could talk for ages about empowering our intuition when it came to healing through natural practices. She loved art and would flit like a hummingbird from painting to photography to ceramics to jewellery. She loved business, connecting with others through commerce and earning an income for herself.
This woman grew up as many did, feeling like each love she had was wonderful but singular, overwhelmed when trying to mesh them all together. She decided that it would be easier to define each passion and separate it, nurture each one on its own as the time called for. But always she was left feeling like chunks of her were missing, she was multifaceted, she felt dull and one-sided when she couldn’t represent all that she was.
For a time she went inward, after efforting and pushing left her feeling depleted, she chose to unwind from everything she had been wrapped up in. She chose to honour the most sacred of all of her callings, motherhood and homemaking, and let the rest scatter from her fingertips open to the autumn wind.
The season of letting go was one that came quietly. It started many years prior when a new life was budding in her belly. The whisper from her heart was strong when she reflected on her current business journey. “You’ve already done all you’re meant to here. It’s done.” Said the voice. But, what will happen next then? She thought. “Nothing” came the reply. It was clear and it made her instantly feel buoyant with the recognition of truth but she wasn’t ready to hear it, so she pushed it aside.
After birthing that baby, she turned her focus back to her work but again the voice was loud and clear, “It’s done now, you may rest.” She did what many countless women had done before her and closed her ears to that truth, she dug herself into work.
But the wisdom of her heart was the wisdom of the universe and it had much bigger plans that were undeniable. Every corner she turned to heal her faltering business was a wasted effort, it became futile. She created a new business and that too…fell flat.
All the while she created, writing stories, poetry, and blogs. She mothered all her girls. She cooked and cleaned and looked after her home, infusing the space with intention and beauty. She found solace in her home, she was comfortable there. On the outside she was trying but she knew with rising clarity that something was dying.
She let go. First she tried to completely replace her life, emptying out every content of familiarity, every belonging finding a new home, she herself moving to a new country. Lo and behold that didn’t quench the ache within her. In fact it fuelled it, she had left the safe nest of her home, she was in a foreign environment and moving constantly, recreating the calm security of home felt impossible.
And still she tried.
Eventually the awakening from within was undeniable, she knew she had taken some winding paths that lead her astray but she also knew what to do about it. And the universe, as it does, responded in kind. Once the decision to return was made, the pathway was cleared and options that once seemed impossible presented themselves.
And so came the season of the final emptying out. She no longer felt panicked or worried about what was to come. She rested in full trust that she was being carried and held the deep knowing that there was nothing more she needed to do.
Nothing. An alien word. It had been whispered to her years ago and finally she embraced it.
It wasn’t painful as she had feared, it wasn’t bleak and it wasn’t static.
It was nurturing. It was comforting. It was the feeling of home she had been seeking. It was expansive.
And all the while it had resided quietly within her, tucked into a corner of her heart, just waiting to be uncovered when the timing was right.
In the nothing there was — everything. Her nervous system stopped thrumming and was soothed, her hands stopped moving and were stilled, her mind was calm and she slept well and deeply. She felt productive and complete and though there was nothing to prove. She took pride in caring for her husband, her daughters, her home and didn’t try to excuse it as anything else.
In that time she felt as though she had been a cog in a machine, endlessly moving forward, that had finally stopped. Suspended animation. She was simply aloft, floating through space and time and it felt like being on a lazy river on a warm day with a cool breeze. She was quenched and sated.
It wasn’t all dreamy, there were moments that felt like frustration and irritation, moments of questioning but more than that there was calm. And there was still creation, through cakes and pies and cookies and stews and soups and biscuits and roasts. There was writing, some jewellery making, crafting and gift giving.
There was a feeling of pieces falling into place, or maybe an awareness that all the pieces that felt elusive and incongruent actually all fit well together after all. A feeling of possibility, that she could stitch together all of her passions and create one big quilt that was beautiful. And like a well worn and loved blanket it could bring comfort in its unity and calming from its weight.
She emerged from that cocoon-like season feeling a glimmer of light waking her from slumber. A new possibility came swiftly and easily without her trying to make it happen. A nudge that couldn’t be ignored compelled her and she said yes to the opportunity being presented.
There was a way to bring everything she loved to the forefront and create something that everyone was wanting. A space that encouraged gathering, to share in community while honouring the slow and deliberate pace of her family life. A way to combine many of her passions and celebrate everyday joys of taking care of oneself. A way that ensured that wellbeing was of the highest priority.
This time, though undeniably compelled, she was slow and steady in her approach. Listening with a new wisdom about timing, trusting that what she was building was going to land at just the right time, in just the right way. Feeling so solid in herself that she could see share the unfolding in bits and pieces and not get swallowed up in the process.
And she now knows that the 'nothing' that was offered to her was her deepest place of healing. It was something to not keep to herself but to share. The very best of who she was lay dormant in that space, waiting to be found and revealed. And the message wasn't hers alone, it was a universal message for all the women. To honour their softness, their nurturing and their repose. To know within it is everything -- the joy and pleasure, the reciprocity, the simplicity of being in the centre of their own life.
From this restored space all things grow. And all things are harmonious. And all is well. Of that, I'm certain.