On overwhelm, self-doubt, and finding gratitude in ordinary moments.
“I need a vacation.”
That was the response that seemed to flow out of me when a friend asked how I was doing last week.
And while it felt true in the moment, I was later able to remind myself just how grateful I am for everything this farm has given me—and how excited we are to continue on this long, sometimes hard, but mostly beautiful journey together.
Heading into Monday, I knew last week was going to be challenging.
We had equipment that needed repairing, pest pressure causing significant damage to a large portion of our salad greens, and several upcoming events that required substantial improvements to our infrastructure.
We also began our partnership with Kids by the Sea preschool, offering gardening classes to their students (something I was surprisingly nervous about as I headed into my first lesson).
Meanwhile, continuing to grow and improve our farm box offerings demands more of my attention, especially as we work out the final details of a new service aimed at bringing carefully curated, locally sourced recipe kits to our community. Stay tuned for more on that!
So, yeah, things have been a bit crazy lately.
At times, all this activity can leave me feeling overwhelmed and, if not properly managed, cause me to relapse into old habits of letting fear and doubt creep in.
“Will all of this work?”
“Do people want what we have to offer?”
“Can I turn this farming thing into a legitimate career?”
My tendency when these thoughts surface is to turn inward, to isolate myself and bury myself in more work as a distraction from all the internal chaos.
But the chaos and noise never really leave.
They simply wait for me to return, and when I do, they have usually metastasized into full-blown self-doubt.
“Am I good enough?”
For me, this is something of a recurring theme: allowing temporary setbacks or struggles to make me question my ability, or my worthiness, to pursue something.
As a kid, this showed up frequently in sports. If I struck out or committed an error in baseball, I would begin to doubt my ability to execute the next play.
The pattern was unconscious at the time, which caused a lot of frustration because I didn’t understand what was happening or how to fix it.
Fortunately, as an adult, I’ve gotten to know this shadow side of myself pretty well and learned ways to keep that doubt from becoming too strong or overpowering.
One strategy I’ve found helpful is making a sincere effort to notice the beauty within ordinary moments, something that is easier said than done when everything around you seems to be crumbling.
Last week, it was seeing my dad covered in sawdust as he sanded down our picnic tables. Knowing that I get to spend this time with him immediately brought me back to a place of gratitude.
Things began to soften. Problems that had felt insurmountable suddenly lost some of their edge. Not everything felt like a fire drill.
Everything that had called for my attention before that moment still existed. I simply felt more capable of addressing each thing with a little more patience and grace than I would have without that brief pause.
I’m holding on to that reminder as I head into this week—still tired, still feeling like a vacation is definitely needed, but renewed in spirit and ready to continue growing this farm and community into something beautiful together.