It’s been six months since I began the fallow season for Sprouts.
Fallow: left unsown for a time to restore fertility, or to rest so that new growth can take root.
As the itch to return to writing grew, a dear friend reached out of the blue to thank me for a post from last year that had resurfaced in her email feed. I love green lights! Thank you, Judith.
So here we are. You can expect something from me most Wednesdays or Thursdays. Some weeks will be longer reflections, other weeks just a simple image or thought.
What did I learn in this quiet season?
Well, it wasn’t all that quiet. I wrote more than I could have imagined a year ago (here’s one piece you might enjoy). And as I sketched out a new month of writing, I discovered there’s still so much more to say.
Marc and I took a planned ten-day vacation to visit our youngest in Europe. We learned the world does not fall apart when we step away for more than a day. In July, we had an unplanned week off to grieve my brother’s passing—and in that tender time also said goodbye to an aunt and my parents’ cat. Again, the world didn’t fall apart, and the swell of love and support continues to overwhelm us in the best way.
I’ve found my footing in our businesses, deepened my work as a coach, and helped people connect more fully to their own purpose. I’ve read books about Play that opened new windows of creativity and brain health. I’ve picked up knitting again and finished a scarf from yarn I bought years ago.
This fallow season has been like planting a Wildflower Mix: unexpected, colorful, nourishing. And just like pollinators spread seeds and fertile magic, my hope is that what grows here will be both beautiful and contagious.