The pause before the push
Welcome + reflections on where we find ourselves.
Heyo! Many of you just found Slow Fox Life, and I wanted to take a moment to say hello and welcome.
I’m a writer, herbalist, consultant, and facilitator. The focus of my work is to support people in building lives that are not only more joyful and meaning-filled, but discovered through deeper connections with the earth.
At the end of the day, my aim is liberation. Our extractive systems — capitalism, patriarchy, hustle culture — are killing us. The way forward is not more compliance but more care: care for ourselves, care for each other, care for the earth.
I also know that it is not enough to simply move away from what drains us, but we must move towards what nourishes us. Through my work I am creating new pathways, with kindred spirits, in an effort to build new systems that are more collaborative, generous, and care-centered.
If you’re into that…then I’m glad you’re here.
August.
End of summer for me typically brings relief. First, it’s an end to the chaos of the summer schedule with two kids, the blessed consistency of the school calendar. Second, the signals the return of rain to the PNW, which I love—not only because it rain doesn’t bother me, but also because the trees and my garden really need it, especially given how dry it’s been this year.
August is one of those threshold months, and those months aren’t usually my favorite. I don’t love liminal spaces, at least not while I’m in them. They feel too dualistic—caught between an ending and a beginning—and that feels uncomfortable. I crave certainty, even though I intuitively know that nothing is ever certain… and that it is in the fluidity of life that we find the most meaning. Still, these thresholds are hard.
For me personally, I started the summer with the hope that I’d reach some kind of clarity about my next steps. Instead, I find myself in a paradox: I am both closer to and farther from who I thought I’d be at this stage. It’s weird—my logical brain doesn’t like it. But I’m leaning into the ways life is asking me to stretch (or straight-up build) different muscles… trying to frame this as a growth-edge, rather than an annoyance.
Which leads me to…
Things I was [un]learning this summer.
This summer marked the emergence of my business, Slow Fox Wellness, and a complete pivot in how I structure my life and days (e.g., no longer around corporate rhythms).
Changing my relationship with time and urgency
If nothing else, the universe has been teaching me patience. But not the stuck in traffic kind, the kind the requires deep surrender to it’s design. I feel like a kid in summer school. I’m longingly looking out the window at my entrepreneurial friends who are slamming down offerings and running retreats. But I’m here at my desk, under the Universe’s watchful eye, who keeps telling me to hit the books. Can I go outside yet? NO.
Now this doesn’t mean I’m not offering anything (Joy Circles start late September) it just means the the incubation period for my work isn’t my own. The ideas I started with at the beginning of May — and the opportunities I expected to come — have not lined up in the way I planned. And I am being taught to trust in that, even when…especially when… it doesn’t make sense to me.
Embracing life’s fluidity, releasing control
In corporate this lack of tangible (monetary) progress could be labeled as failure — didn’t hit the deadline, over due and over budget etc.— but I know that’s not true. And it’s not how nature works. So when I feel anxious I just look at my garden and am reminded that all things bloom at the exact right moment. Using the litmus test of how I FEEL when I let go and trust, as the marker of success for a day.
In my last post (below) I spoke about how questions can be used to guide our lives forward, especially when things aren’t concrete. So as I let go of certainty questions are what take the lead.
Things that will have my attention this fall.
These are the questions that I will be following – and writing about – this fall:
Everything is an ecosystem. The roots of herbalism — at least the traditions I am steeped in — remind us that the body is an ecosystem. And these walking ecosystems we call bodies also exist WITHIN ECOSYSTEMS. From the backyard to the boardroom we are surrounded by collections of organisms interacting with one another. The problems that ail us — both physically and spiritually — are all signals of ecosystems that are WAY out of whack. Burn-out, for example, isn’t an individual problem…it’s cultural. So when we talk about change — building new ways of being — we have to look at the whole dang thing, and we cannot settle for solutions that only address symptoms.
If we acknowledge that everything is an ecosystem, how does — how SHOULD — that change the way we approach building new models for how we live life?
Claiming new identities. The conversation about initiation keeps coming to the forefront for me — the purpose of initiation in ancient cultures, and the lack of those practices in modern, Western society.
How do thresholds initiate us into the next phase of life?
What do we do — how do we initiate ourselves — when those practices are absent?
How much does building, versus allowing, come into play when one is redefining their life?
Shifting paradigms takes grit, and friends. I’m in deep need of paradigm shifting collaborators. It’s become my goal to find them, and hold on tight. Because this work isn’t simple.
If we know the systems we live in are not working — are actively crumbling — what comes in it’s place?
How do we center the loving, abundant wisdom of the earth herself to build new paradigms?
And most importantly how do we help others cross that threshold too?
What now?
I will be out of pocket exploring parts of Oregon, and may not have a post ready for next week. So in the meantime… I’d love to hear your take:
What were your un-learnings this summer?
What are the questions that are requesting your attention as we move into the next season?