After enduring our long, hot, oppressively humid summers in the South, the first morning with an edge of chill in the air is enough to bring me to tears. Those first few cold mornings are just a whisper of coming fall and usually don't solidify as a weather pattern for several weeks after they arrive. But the sweet relief of needing a light robe or sweater for morning coffee on the porch is welcome every year.
I've been extremely fortunate to live in spaces where the world's natural rhythms show themselves everywhere.
-the seasonal rotation of flowers in the garden-hellebores giving way to daffodils, then tulips, anemones ranunculus, and peonies in succession.
-The highly anticipated arrival of fireflies that dazzle our nights until the tips on the maple leaves turn red.
-The arrival of stick season (thanks to Noah Kahan for bringing that perfect phrase into my life) to the first snow.
This sequence never gets old.
Living close to nature has taught me the importance of embracing seasonality. I'm currently in the seasonal transition from parenting young kids to parenting teens and perimenopause. It seems cruel that these two seasons overlap for most of us.
In addition to these changes in my personal life, my professional life is also changing.
My season of entrepreneurship and flower farming is coming to an end.
After a few years of trying to navigate both a career in floral design and small-scale farming, I realized the pace at which I was working wasn't sustainable, especially in this busy season of motherhood.
The gorgeous images online of flower farming hide the true nature of the hustle it takes to be successful in this industry. I am fortunate to have several local florists investing in local flowers. But I could no longer drive all over Middle Tennessee to make sales, keep up with website work, market, and complete sales, and do all the behind-the-scenes work in addition to full-time motherhood and part-time design work without losing my mind. My job at Bloomstall Flower Boutique allows me to work with local flowers (including mine) often without all the driving and finding new markets.
Taking my flower growing from farming to growing for myself has been so refreshing. In the past, I've been a typical millennial guilty of trying to monetize every hobby I pick up. It feels like the correct change of pace to grow just enough to supply the shop and have some flowers left over to gift as I choose. It also means I get to release everything that comes with running a business, social media pages for the business, keeping up with all the paperwork for taxes, and feeling the pressure to be working or plugged in constantly. Even though the initial parts of this change are taking place in my slow season, I can already feel how ready I was for this season and how right the decision was for my life at this time.
Taking growing back as a hobby has cleared up a lot of time and energy for other things I love. I am knitting much more this winter, with the goal of knitting my first sweaters in 2025. Less time crafting social media posts has freed up time and space for reading and writing. I can't express enough how good disengaging from scrolling, short-form videos, and hot takes has been for my attention span and mental health. I plan to share more about that soon. But for now, this page and Substack are the only places to connect with me. I've deactivated my Meta accounts (Facebook, Instagram, and Threads) and am thoroughly enjoying my life without them.
Speaking of writing, my website will transition from a flower business page to an author page. I will link my Substack newsletter, Keep Growing, and share more here, from new essays and poems to a monthly round-up of what I am reading, cooking, noticing, etc. The process may be a little slow and clunky as I am not skilled in web design, but I hope to have things up and running by February.
I hope you'll stick around for what's to come. If you came for flower farming content and the new plan doesn't serve your goals, I wish you well as you exit. I'm all for each of us deciding what fits into our lives each season and acting accordingly.
Nature is a wise teacher. The more I embrace my life as a creature part of the natural order, the healthier I become. I'm excited to see what lessons and gifts this new season brings.
xo,
Lindsay
Also, I'd love to hear what seasons are ending or beginning for you. Please comment so we can celebrate together.
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