Welcome Back
May 11, 2026
Let's see where we end up this time.
In the three year gap between my last post and now, so much has happened. The narrative and details will unfold; I won’t shrink it into a linear rundown. But I do need to rewind to address something: in my last post, April 2023, I said I was “a caricature of myself” because I was writing by candlelight surrounded by seashells and other natural baubles.
I apologize to myself for dismissing my core, because I was embarrassed and afraid it wouldn’t be accepted. That was me and it is me, sitting in the morning, writing in the quiet surrounded by my beautiful things. It wasn’t and isn’t a joke or folly or punchline. This is seeming pretty sanctimonious. But I need to be so seriously unashamed about who I am and what I’m doing as I go forward from here.
A month ago, I left my job, with all its fringe benefits and emails and Zooms, a job that gave me an easy way to identify myself to others and for them to mark my so-called success and stability. I left to work on a small flower farm and its two side-shoot businesses: wedding florals and a retail shop. I have been prepping soil, planting snapdragons, lisianthus and stock. I’ve started my days cutting fiddlehead ferns in a forest grove, and pulling lily of the valley, my hands wet and cold from dew as I root around for a strong hold on the stem. I’ve weeded for five hours, listening to music, undisturbed, and saying hello to the robins who come to investigate the newly turned over ground.
In the evening, I am physically sore from the labor, and my arms are streaked with dirt. I have been so held and affirmed by my community. Unbridled support from my partner; texts from former colleagues hoping I’m having a good day in the sunshine; a lunch packed by a dear friend in an insulated lunchbag delivered to me at the farm. So many instances to confirm that, yes, this is right, it is truly right and just, what you are doing for yourself and in some small way, the world.
Tulip table
As always, I have privileges of many kinds working in my favor that make possible this kind of decision to pursue a passion, most prominently the privilege of choice. I can walk away from the stable, cushy institutional job because I was able to have that job in the first place. I am not trying to romanticize an agrarian past or accidentally affirm trad-wifery. But in the midst of injustices big and small, my being drained and dissatisfied, ignorant of my gifts, talents and values, doesn’t help anyone -- while it actively hurts me. So I’m going to dive in again to what gives me life and do some writing about it here, like I did when I went to Italy and started this website project. But now I’m coming from a place of joy, agency, support and hope. Let’s see where we end up this time.