The Sacred Pause and the Power of Letting Go

“Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on…”

Not really. I actually quite like it right here, thank you very much.

Hi, have we met? I’m a homebody. I love, love, love nesting—making a house a home.

Nesting or homemaking is about so much more than the effort and expense required to maintain a sheltering place. It’s a form of self-care and a creative expression that takes time, patience, and the willingness to step away when clarity is needed, only to return with renewed inspiration.

My home has become like a living, breathing collage—layered together with intention, much like an artist thoughtfully composes a quilt. By tending to my space through this lens, I shift away from viewing housework as a chore and instead as an act of radical self-care.

As I reflect on this sacred pause I entered this summer out of necessity, I see how the events leading up to it felt like both a breakdown and a breaking open.

After a year or more of overworking, overgiving, and giving in ways that weren’t fully aligned with my deeper values and intentions, I'd hit full burnout.

Recently, I was reminded of a Taoist proverb I first discovered on the inside of an Honest Tea cap over 14 years ago. I still remember that day and the precise moment clearly—the swirl of emotions, my nervous system jacked… I was not okay.

“The bird of paradise alights upon the hand which does not grasp,” read the message inside that bottle cap. And, I’ve held those words close, like a cherished gift all these years, because I knew immediately they would have lasting meaning and impact.

This past summer, before Lyme disease forced me to slow things way, way down, I found myself in that same place again. The familiar intensity crept in as my body sent signals I couldn’t ignore, and just like that, my mental health had tanked again.

By June, I had lined up eight catered events and felt like I was spinning out instead of savoring what was supposed to be a quiet, mellow summer. Originally, I only had two events booked, with the intention of leaving space to enjoy the season and prepare for my girl’s wedding with ease and grace.

So, what happened?

I was grasping—reaching for something, though not from an aligned place. I began to recognize that a younger, not fully healed part of me still believed that I had something to prove. But to whom? And at what cost?

The cost was steep. My nervous system spiraled, and I became entangled in a frenzied spin that felt completely out of sync with the reality I yearned for and had already worked so hard to cultivate.

Yet, this enforced pause—the delicious, nourishing, sacred pause I’ve been savoring at my best nest for the past two months—has been profoundly healing. I felt broken. But in this stillness, I’ve been gently piecing myself back together, remembering who I am when I feel whole.

Remember the sound of rewinding a cassette tape? That’s how this healing season has felt—like a slow, full-bodied unraveling, shedding old layers, clearing cobwebs from my inner closets, and letting the light pour in. It’s felt like an unscrambling of tangled wires that had caused a power outage within me.

And as we all know (though we often forget, like I did this summer)… you can’t pour from an empty cup.

Never before have I taken an extended break from working or pursuing work. I had never experienced the kind of embodied safety that allowed me to step back from letting fear drive the bus. For so long, I survived in hustle mode, unaware that fear had taken the wheel because I was too consumed with the details to see the bigger picture. I was lost in the weeds, so to speak.

I’ve had to relearn and remember what it feels like to let my guard down and let go of grasping, busyness, striving, and hustling. That was the old paradigm and way of working. This time has reminded me that functioning in that way is no longer in service to my highest good.

I was recently presented with a really juicy and exciting work opportunity. I’m so grateful that after only a couple of days of thinking about it with the full intention of diving in, I caught myself and recognized that I was backsliding into this old pattern. I asked for guidance, pivoted and shifted, and then respectfully declined.

I’m further grateful that I remembered all the evidence I have gathered to support me in knowing and trusting that I am safe and that I get to enjoy all the spaciousness and balance I have been inviting in.

Over the past several weeks, as I’ve started to feel better, I’ve noticed a familiar sensation—a deep, intuitive knowing—the same knowing I felt when I became a mother. A profound clarity tells me I’m on the right path.

Now, that same knowing is telling me that something new and deeper is asking to be birthed through me. I feel it growing, even as we move toward the darker months. My inner light is returning and burning brighter again; I know it’s both powerful and purposeful.

I’m excited to share more in the coming weeks. Stay tuned.