week 32: when you don't know what your intuition is saying

this week on the little dream farm

David arrived safe and sound last weekend after his long drive from Florida to New York. He’s in town for the month to see friends, spend time in the area, get away from the Florida heat, as well as to work on his book. He came by the farm on Monday afternoon for our first of several sessions where we’ll start putting all the pieces together.

When I was working on my first book Such is Life I had a set publishing date I was not willing to move. With a limited timeline, it forced me to have to learn how to do the entire thing, from start to finish, on my own. Everything from designing the cover to creating it in Photoshop to purchasing an ISBN to laying out every single page of the book, figuring out how to price it, list it, market and promote it, etc. You name it, I did it (with help from Chris and several precious friends), and if I’d paid someone else to do it I may have spent between $5-10K to have the book edited and produced.

So when David mentioned he’d already written a book but didn’t have any idea how to go about the publishing process, I offered him my assistance and he accepted it gladly. It’s really special we’re getting to work on this project together and I told him this week that after I’d met him during inspections back when we were buying the farm, I’d daydream about the two of us working together in some way—perhaps teaching gardening or farming or hosting meditation classes or the like. He’s such a wealth of knowledge and experience and a natural teacher, too, and I could see how his wisdom and my technical know-how could be of service to people in helping them heal. Turns out, this book is that perfect opportunity for us to work together so that his important message and all he’s learned from more than 35 years of meditating doesn’t just sit within a folder on his computer.

We have a tentative goal of early January as a publishing date but we’re allowing ourselves to be flexible as David isn’t married to a timeframe—there’s a lesson in that…in how David allows his life to flow freely, understanding that he need not worry about “forcing the river” as he puts it.

You’re probably wondering what he thought about the Cut Flower Patch and I did get a chance to take him out there and show him what we’ve been up to. He was very impressed with what we’ve learned and how far we’ve come in our gardening know-how in such a short time, and of course I put together a nice big bouquet for him to take back to his lake cabin with him too.

Flowers for David.

Chris and I had been weighing a really big decision last week about an incredible opportunity that came up for us. We’d decided, after a ton of time and mental headspace weighing all the pros and cons, not to pursue it. While Chris was feeling pretty settled in the decision, I was still all over the place about it.

What do you do when you don’t know what your intuition is telling you? What do you do when you can’t hear God’s voice? And even harder - what do you do when there’s time sensitivity surrounding the decision so you don’t have the luxury of waiting to hear an answer?

I laughed once I realized I knew exactly who I might take this to for guidance: David, who I talked about this very topic with on the day we met during inspections for the farm and had a discussion about making big life decisions. And the man he bought this farm from, Pastor Jay.

It’s not lost on me that the two people who came before us here are a spiritual seeker and a pastor. Gosh, that is just so rich.

David graciously offered to come back over to the farm on Tuesday and sit with me on the patio to discuss it.

I used to need to ask for a dozen opinions from family and friends and people I trust when weighing a big decision. But I’ve come to learn that more opinions are not necessarily always better, and that at the end of the day no one else can make those tough decisions for you, even if they love you with everything they have. So, I stopped seeking that and instead have tried to focus on how I organize my thoughts and the process by which I weigh tough choices. I’m not sure you ever arrive in how best to make big decisions, but I’d like to think I’m at least getting better.

David suggested that I ask myself a series of questions regarding both sides of the decision and then note how my body feels in the reply to those questions. That was a helpful exercise to go through. Secondly, he suggested I go somewhere and sit for a period of time to just be with the overall situation. “When you go there and you sit,” he said, “go with the willingness to admit that you don’t know what to do and don’t know how to figure out what to do next, letting go of the burden of having to figure it all out while you’re there.”

“The admission that you don’t know and the surrender of not knowing how to figure it out is part of the path to knowing,” is the essence of what he said next.

He suggested that once I sit, once I admit my not knowing, and once I let go, that I stay awake and allow what’s next to come. That there will be signs to help guide me.

Jay, who shared with me a recent very similar experience he and Linda had about having to weigh a really big life decision for the two of them, recalled something he heard repeated in bible college many times: “A need does not necessitate a call.” Or as his late-father used to put it: “When in doubt, don’t.” We talked a lot about the notion that just because you can do something doesn’t necessarily mean that you should.

By the time I’d finished speaking with both David and Jay, I was feeling more relaxed in our choice. And I have, as David suggested, sat and admitted that I just didn’t know how to go about the process of deciding in this case…that admission has brought me peace as our decision has come to feel like the right choice.

Perhaps you’re in the middle of a choice and these words from David and Jay might bring you some type of resolution. Perhaps you might go, and sit, and admit that you don’t know how to choose, unburden yourself of having to figure it all out, and then allow the signs to come.

We closed out this work week with a wonderful dinner on Friday night with a group of neighbors. It was seven families who gathered at one of our neighbor’s houses (we want to host in the barn next!) and everyone brought the most wonderful, thoughtful, and beautiful dishes—most of us sharing things from our gardens, and we gathered around on the patio under festoon lights and enjoyed one another’s company until after the sun set.

I genuinely love the people we’re surrounded by and it’s clear everyone feels the same about one another, too. We’ve been welcomed here with open arms and that has made this place feel like home.

It was the perfect antidote to a week of indecision about whether or not we’d made the right choice…a clear sign, as David suggested I be on the lookout for, that in so many ways, we’re right where we belong.