i miss the garden. not just the herbs and flowers, not just the tomatoes heavy on the vine or the eggplant taking shape…but the rhythm of it all. the steady pace of tending. the built-in pauses and the way a garden teaches you to trust what you can’t yet see.
we had plans this spring…a reworked courtyard that held the outdoor “garden to table” so fully. built in kitchen, expanded patio dining space, and consolidated stone beds all sketched out beautifully with bookmarked materials and a better watering catchment system.
but life, this one wild life, had other ideas
there is no garden this year. what was pulled up this past fall with fresh hope for the spring has been left in want and i’ve felt that absence like a hollow space where breathe and ritual used to live. where morning coffee met the dew of a new day and evening light caught basil blooms and zinnias stretching tall for that last bit of sun. where my hands remembered they were made for more than the to do lists and curated schedules.
there’s something about digging your hands into soil that reminds you you’re still part of something holy and grounded, a story bigger than you of redemption and becoming. so when i feel disoriented in business, or lost in the spinning of motherhood and ambition, it’s often the garden i crave. that place where time moves different. where you can’t rush a seed or hustle a harvest.
but I’ve also found myself saying, maybe this is still a garden year…just not one that blooms above ground but a root year where foundations are deepened.
in our business, in our home, in our family, there’s been a shift. job changes, the possibility of having to relocate, then the deep exhale of getting to stay.
jason picking up sports runs, learning the rhythm of our kids’ after-school snacking and homework habits. me learning to receive help without shame and let him meal plan without rewriting the grocery list. to trust his way of doing things even when it’s different from mine.
we’re seeing each other with fresh eyes and no longer just as the roles we’ve always played. “thank you for always” whispered in between moments where gratitude catches up with us as we see more fully what the other has always done. this season is stripping away the old stories about who earns what and who carries what and in that, we’re finding something truer.
conversations we pushed aside for “later” when life felt more predictable about what we actually want our days to feel like and the future we want to leave for our kids but live into now…not just financial, but deeply relational. talks about how to build a marriage that can hold both of our ambitions without either of us disappearing.
walking in presence, not performance.
moving through this season of shift with new dreams and job transitions can at times feel like unraveling but more and more, i realize it’s just revealing dreams we’ve buried. a recent favorite Chip Conley says “when the crisis becomes the chrysalis.” i love that.
in work, i’ve built systems. the kind i used to avoid but have realized are essential to keep my values in life and work in tact. CRM flows that actually do the heavy lifting. follow-up that honors both my clients and my sanity. marketing that offers clear direction, not confusion or empty words.
these aren’t the sexy parts of real estate. no one posts about their email automations or their checklists but i’m learning in new ways the visible fruit, the closings and the celebrations, only grow from the roots you tend to daily.
success, for me, isn’t about leaderboards or plaques. it’s about the story i want to tell when i’m done. one of alignment. rhythm. vision. trust.
it’s about being a present mom and a businesswoman who doesn’t shrink when someone implies i should choose one. trusting that meaningful work and true rest were never meant to compete.
balance (n.)the even distribution of weight enabling something to remain upright and steady.
but in life? balance isn’t something you achieve, it’s something you practice. not a finish line, but a cadence.
a daily decision to tend what matters, even when it’s not urgent. actually…especially when it’s not urgent.
it’s discerning where to lean in, and where to let go and choosing to let your values steer the day and set the pace. sure there’s a tendency to want to strive in this season, but i believe there is a deeper purpose we might just miss if we did.
i don’t have a garden right now but the things being planted matter greatly…the automations that serve with intention, words dutifully chosen to equip consistent conversations, and content that reflects my heart for my clients and for home, not just a sales pitch. routines that protect my energy. morning scribbles. twilight walks. saying no when needed and saying yes where it really counts.
i’m learning in business that the best gardens, the ones that feed for generations, aren’t built overnight but slowly, with patience and systems that support sustainability. with attention to what grows well together: team, tools, clients, values, and the kind of faith that keeps showing up even when the metrics don’t move.
we know things of quality take time, but rarely do we sit in the delay of it well or long enough to let the roots take hold.
if you’re in a season where Spring didn’t bring the blooms you hoped for…
maybe you’re raising littles in the trenches and caring for yourself continues to be an afterthought. maybe you’re building something new and the steps forward are outnumbered by the ones back or maybe life interrupted your plans in a way you never saw coming.
you might just be re-rooting and take heart, because roots grow strong in the dark.
they spread wide when the surface is harsh. they build the foundation for future abundance. they teach you how to actively wait well.
stay steady. keep tending.
the work takes care of the harvest.
if this spoke to you, i’d love to hear what you’re planting in your root season. feel free to reply or forward to a friend who might need a gentle reminder, too.
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