A few months ago, everything suddenly felt different.
I was feeling drained of energy. Everything I was passionately working toward had suddenly faded… gently slipping from my grasp as it often does.
There was no single event that caused this shift. My body and my mind both decided they wanted to slow down, be more still. I knew I needed to listen.
I’m fortunate that money is not my motivator. I’ve never felt that way, although I’ve always ‘needed’ money for most of my adult life.
What motivates and drives me is curiosity. Growth. Expansion. The freedom to explore different paths, try things on, dive deep, then resurface with something new.
A loud question kept nagging at me. “What do I really want?”
More clients? No.
More writing? Yes.
More free time? Definitely.
Less noise? Absolutely.
Growing the business? Perhaps….but maybe not in the way I originally envisioned.
At nearly 60, I’ve been working nonstop since I was 15 (Jefferson Valley Carvel in NY was my first job and will forever be my favorite).
Retirement is technically an option. But what would I even do with all that time?
I’m deeply introverted. I don’t socialize casually. I don’t crave group activities or endless calls.
My joy lives in solitude. Cooking. Gardening. Sitting with my dogs. Writing. Wandering gravel roads on my ATV, soaking in the beauty and the peacefulness of the farmland all around me.
I know this pattern now.
I dive in. I engage fully. And then… I feel a shift.
I suddenly am not that interested. I’m ready to move on.
I crave personal time. Silence. Stillness.
A strong pull inward. Not avoidance but an incubation.
Only recently did I discover this is inherent to my Human Design. I’m a 6/2 Manifesting Generator, and the “2” represents the Hermit (someone who thrives in solitude and emerges naturally when the time is right).
But even before I knew that language, I had started to reframe it.
I used to judge myself for changing direction. For losing interest. For wanting time alone.
But now it makes perfect sense.
I’m not broken.
I’m not inconsistent.
I’m exploring.
And this is what The Explorer’s Path has taught me:
We don’t always move in straight lines.
We circle. We pause. We question.
We grow in the quiet.
And then, we re-emerge, more aligned than before.
So if you’re in a season like that now, where your body is tired and your mind is telling you to quit or shift… you must first recognize that this does not mean you are behind. You’re not giving up. You’re just recalibrating.
Your energy is sacred.
And your pace and speed are wisdom only you have.
You are the only one who can permit yourself to recalibrate.
Sometimes, before anything blooms, the deadnettle arrives here in the Midwest…purple and wild, sweeping across empty fields like a secret message from the earth itself:
Some seasons are here to color the soil, not the harvest.
All love,
Sue
P.S. If you’re craving more space to reconnect with your own pace and rhythm, you might enjoy The Inner Reset™ …my 30-day emotional healing guide designed for deep-feeling, deep-thinking explorers just like you.
(It's a quiet companion for those in-between seasons….the ones where everything is shifting, even if you can't quite name it yet.)
Deadnettle in the cornfields is a sign that spring has arrived.
You’re always so gentle and kind. Were you a teacher of some kind?
I relate to this a lot. It's similar to what I do on my free time and my occasional loss of motivation. Thank you for sharing!