One week ago I left my corporate job in San Diego, packed up my 2 year old son, kissed my husband goodbye and jumped on a plane. My destination: a small farm in Wisconsin. My goal: to slow down, way down.
I stepped away to breathe, to be a mother, to find out what doors will open when one is closed.
This morning I woke up and harvested kale and asparagus with my sister while drinking my first cup of coffee. I picked arugula and chives, nibbling as I worked. I watched my son pick his first radish and plant his first pepper. I sat in a hammock and just sat there; no agenda, no place to be, no technology demanding my attention. It was liberating.
I cringed for a moment at the dirt under my nails, but then decided to embrace it. What's the point of committing to 3 weeks on a farm if you aren't willing to go to sleep with dirt under your nails? I worked hard. I used a shovel. I can't remember the last time I did that, I don't even own a shovel. My son ate more dirt than I'd like to admit. We didn't shower. We held worms and searched for spiders endlessly. As the day ended, I was exhausted, filthy and dehydrated. But every moment of it felt right, like a giant exhale, even the dirt under my nails. The world slows down when you step away, completely away. When you disconnect from your busy life and reconnect with simplicity, something magical happens. I haven't found words for it yet, but I believe it's what we need most.
I swear, get dirt under your nails. It's good for your soul.
(shout out to my husband who encourages such adventures)