Happy Monday, friends.
I left you to fend for yourself in the cooking realm last week. My own week was turned on its head and I wasn’t about to show up here without enthusiasm.
The theme of my week has been “letting go”. Letting go of people, letting go of creative ventures, and making room for what is working, rather than keeping space for things that aren’t.
As I was thinking of what to write to you, this poem popped in my head. I’ll never forget writing it in late 2018. I was sitting in the tiny office of my old home, at my grandfather’s desk, watching my resident squirrel, aptly named Fat Squirrel, make his way from his little home in an old Oak to my deck, where he no doubt was going to attack the bird feeder. As he jumped from branch to branch, an old limb snapped from under him, fell from the tree and shattered in my driveway. Fat Squirrel was un-phased, of course, but I wasn’t. That old oak was planted when the house was built in the 40’s and had seen hurricanes, snow storms, and the development of that neighborhood. The old oak stood tall when the house was renovated and kept my beautiful office shaded. In that small moment, with just enough pressure from my overweight squirrel, an old branch snapped and that old oak taught me a valuable lesson about letting go.
In order for that oak to still be standing, it had to shed limbs and grow deep roots: How else could it have survived 78 years in an ever changing environment? It had to shed the parts that were eating away its’ core to make room for new branches that could create more acorns for the animals around it. To us, a tree limb falling might seem startling and instant, but the part that we don’t see is how long that limb was dying. How long termites ate away at it, or how tall ivy must have grown to suffocate its’ roots. And, that’s kind of what we go through too, right?
Like the trees around us, we are meant to survive and thrive. too. In order to do that we have to adapt to our ever changing surroundings and grow within it all while letting go of the moments that eat away at us.
In order to grow, we have to let go and move on. As humans, it’s not always as easy as just letting a dead branch fall and shatter. Our emotions keep us tethered, even when we know something or someone isn’t serving us. And, part of letting go is understanding that it’s all about trusting yourself now, not worrying about the consequence of tomorrow.
We fear letting go because we fear change, confrontation, and the idea of future conflict- but, what’s worse? Hanging on to a situation that is holding you back, or trusting yourself to handle whatever comes your way next?
Part of life is knowing when it is time to move on, and forgiving yourself along the way. Forgive yourself and forgive the pain you feel in the moment. Release the anger, and remember that whatever you’re letting go of served its purpose. Without it, you wouldn’t be here, now, growing and becoming the person you’re meant to be.
Our life becomes a series of pivots from paradigms. The more we trust ourselves, the more we create a path that fits us, dispelling any and all preconceived notions we had about “paths”, and “timelines” and all the other things we think life “should be”.
Release social norms, release expectations and do not allow anything to eat away at you so much that it causes you to break. You are strong like the oldest trees in the world, and you will get through your storm, I promise.
JOURNAL PROMPT OF THE WEEK:
“I am making room for______________________________”
If this week is centered on what we let go, then let’s focus on what we’re making room for. We let go because we want to usher in something else, something different, but we’re not always focused on the positive side of letting go.
As always, I’ll go first:
“I am making room for writing.”
I am very Nick Carraway adjacent when it comes to talking about my creative ventures. I am both in it, and observing it- which is the part you often see here or on my Instagram captions. I can’t help but be introspective when it comes to this “journey” because I do not exist without writing, photography and cooking, and yet, imposter syndrome creeps in. By observing my movement, I am not giving space to my friendly imposter syndrome to seep in and rust these creative wheels.
While I am grateful for the very busy years that carried me here, my dream has always been to be a writer. To tell a story. To have my book in bookstores. And, to find a way to take my experiences, my pain, and help others find answers.
In re-thinking how I approach photography, how I preserve my passion, I am making room for inspiration. In letting go of the preconceived notion of “success as a photographer”, I am making room for my dream and finding a way to marry both, just like my palm reading from 7 years ago said I would. It has become my mantra of sorts, because as scary as it is to slow down, is as exciting as it is to anticipate what’s next.
Now, it’s your turn. What are you making room for? Is it a relationship? Love? A Career pivot? Think about what you want most and what holds you back from it.
In my own world, I am letting go of a lot. I am learning how to handle the grief of realizations all while understanding that dual realities can exist. My hope is that “With Soul” can help you, too. So, as always, thank you for being here.
In some exciting news, I am making more room for Salt with Soul: It has its own Instagram! (at) Salt_withsoul will be sharing quotes and cooking videos starting this week. Am I scared of the trolls? Yep. 100%. won’t lie to you about that. I’m more afraid of holding myself back, though. So, here’s to a few trepidatious steps forward.
I’ll see you Thursday for a little bit of Salt… this week, we’re making Empanadas.