I want to start over. I want to walk out my back door in the morning barefoot, the dew dampening the hem of my robe, mulch caught in my toes. I'll pick black-eyed Susans to put on our breakfast table, propping them into the milk glass jar I found at the barn down the road. Sausages will sizzle on the griddle, I'll serve them with hot biscuits and homemade strawberry jam. I want to pay off my credit card every month. I want to learn to play the guitar at twilight. I want to find the girls cable knit sweaters under the cat dozing in the sunny window seat and see the dust fly off them in a beam of bright light. I want to walk my kids down the road to their schoolhouse, our dog trailing behind us, skirting off to chase a rabbit rustling in the fall leaves. I want to have a pantry lined with glass jars of dried beans, our own honey that my husband harvests, bits of dried flowers the girls have gathered, shells, and a dusty bumblebee corpse reclined in a birds nest. I want friends to show up for supper, we'll mix their roast pork with my potatoes and salad and, of course, chocolate cake. I want to write and create and make a small ripple in this vast ocean of life and be fairly compensated for it. I want simplicity above all; quiet rain drumming on the roof, a canopy of trees shading us in the summer, a stream that rushes by our house.
Is it possible to stop everything and start a whole new path? When you wake bleary eyed into a life that feels jarringly out of alignment to what you desire, can you begin again?
I'm feeling this because we're all feeling this. I'm healing this so we can all heal this.
Sometimes a message comes through me so clearly I know it's for/from the collective. I feel strongly at times that I'm meant to be a channel for something bigger, a wayshower towards truth. But mostly I get too locked into perfectionism to execute, or start feeling the "who am I?" complex.
The voice is loud today, so I'm diving in.
In September I declared myself a 1960's housewife, I passed the proverbial money-earning torch securely to my husband and I reclined into a pace of life that felt nourishing, productive and beautiful.
I got so much positive response from that, the women are thirsty for a life that feels elusive in our modern world. Where homemaking is celebrated because it's essential. Where we can stop playing catch up to the subversive and loud messaging of "having it all" by doing more.
You can be a wife, mother and business owner - just...
-wake up earlier
-stop doing some of the things you love
-ignore your friends
-make more time for work
-be 100% present to your children
-eat less but more often
-be available to your husband
-practice self care
What a mind-fuckery of 'advice' we can find.
I've fallen victim to this trap over and over, but it's not just because of the noise.
It's in me. I do want it all.
I can have it all, just not all at once. Or not all in perfect order and harmony.
But there's a new sensibility rising to all of this, I can feel it in my bones. I've felt it for ages.
I desire that quiet wholesome life, where my bare feet touch the ground every day, where I'm present to my life unfolding and graciously devouring it. It's rich with meaningful work which looks like being the primary person in my home, coordinating my family, creating stunning meals, being able to look into my daughters eyes each day -- with support. With resources. I'm not doing this at a deficit, I am doing this fully backed up by a husband who is alongside as often as he can and the deep enduring income he makes. I'm doing it honestly and respectfully to myself, where I am nourished as I care for others. Where I don't overdo it, all family members feel a sense of responsibility and importance in their participatory roles.
In this life I also serve the world in many ways, through my contract style work. My breadth of experience, knowledge and skill set is matched to jobs that pay well and consistently and is valued. This work operates on my time so that I'm flexible to pick up the kids from school, make dinner each night and also be all in for me. A walk to the river with the dogs, a lunch out with a friend, a pottery class I take each week.
I get to prioritize my writing, my creating, I can keep my new shop Hive Wellbeing buzzing in the background through online sales and occasional pop ups and events.
The money comes in from many sources, and it's dependable. It's plenty, it's more than enough for our lives and to share.
I believe in this life. I know this life is possible, I know this life is for me, that's why it's been planted within my heart. I've been trying to make it all happen, by myself. I've been trying to just figure it all out, work harder, but to what end? It's created an avalanche of problems.
Creating and recreating websites, folding and then starting new businesses, efforting more when I'm depleted. It's like walking up the down escalator, you know that feeling?
Because I've been doing it wrong. I know this -- I've had so many insane technical issues alone in the last 5 months (including losing my Facebook account and half my subscribership, if you're reading this I am so, so very grateful) which is always indicative to the wheels falling off. Everything is in flux, our home, our businesses, the girls' school. By July we'll be living a completely new life. Again.
We've been trapped in this cyclical pattern of feast or famine, of plenty and none, I know it's all coming from this same place.
A misaligned sense of what life is meant to be. Trying to create what I want in the construct of what is. What I want to build doesn't belong in this version of life, it has to be cobbled together in a way where thinking outside the box is necessary.
I know that the problems I've created in my life are bigger than me. Bigger than I could fix. And I'm not overly worried about it (right in this moment anyway) because I'm actively turning this over to a higher power. I'm surrendering and praying for guidance. I am focusing on the true desires of my heart and watching as the needed steps unfold before me.
There is an analogy about the practice of manifestation I heard from Mike Dooley. Your desire is a destination you've never been to before. You can imagine being in your car and programming the address into the GPS. But until you are there, engaged, the car in drive, the prompts of where to turn won't show up. And all the while you're driving, you won't recognize where you are because it's a whole new route for you. You will just keep listening to the prompts as they're given, the steps will keep filling themselves in, and after the predetermined amount of time, you'll arrive at the new destination.
I'm an active participant, I'm in the driver's seat - I am doing my work each day. I am controlling what I can control. I'm making my bed, I'm getting dressed, I'm thinking of ways to get new people to Hive, I'm applying to jobs. I'm making dinner. I'm cleaning the tub. I'm getting some sunshine. I'm looking into my daughter's eyes.
I'm constantly correcting my thoughts towards 'right' thinking. I'm acknowledging the hardship and seeing it as an invitation to get clearer on what I do want, letting go of obsessing on what I don't want (what we resist persists as they say). I'm driving to the areas I want to live so I can feel myself there, I'm going to sleep with the vision of the new life I wake up into. I'm finding gratitude for all the many blessings I have now.
Life has a sacred design - the apple seed contains all the wisdom within it to become the tree complete with a bounty of blossoms and apples. We too contain this plan, I'm sitting quietly each day to connect to that source, the whole 'let go, and let God' thingie. I'm watching things that are funny, reading books that show me what's possible and showing up in my life.
I'm between what was and what will be. I'm watching as I wipe away the water spots on the faucet, seeing it go from dull to shiny and really taking pleasure in the simplicity. As I measure flour and cocoa and sugar and mix with the wet ingredients I am joyful. Success I chase in outside validation and look, here it is before me in the alchemy of turning something grubby into something gleaming, raw ingredients into a sumptuous cake.
I think we can start again, as often as we want. I pray for the clarity and wisdom of knowing what will truly feel like peace as I keep my desires safely burning brightly, a candle that can't be snuffed out. A cork that always rises up to the top of the deep waters. Whether it be home, or meaningful work, I'm giving it over with faith that what is meant to be won't pass me by.