I Don’t Know What I Want

I’m not an indecisive individual by nature. I’m a thinker. A processor. An observer of self. Because I’m an introspective girl, I often know what I want, how I want it and where I want it. Particularly when treading on familiar territory.

That’s usually my normal. However, these past few months have swept me into a new state of being. Sometimes, I truly don’t know what I want!

I’ve never had to choose where to put my house on piece of land. Where the garden topsoil should go in relation to a home that isn’t yet in existence. If I’m happy with the location of the driveway?

I can’t see it, so how am I supposed to know if I’ll like it?

Am I going to be happy with the edible hedgerow? Are crab apples going to look straggly growing beside lilac bushes? Is this actually where I want both currant and raspberry beds?

Working with empty land can be tricky. Especially when you have plants that need to go in now.

Am I making the right decision?

And the house! Is the guest bedroom too small? The ceiling. Is it going to feel too high in such a tiny living room? If I can’t see the kitchen, how am I supposed to know if I’ll be happy with it?

All these decisions can drive a girl out of her mind!

Surely this isn’t what I’ve been looking forward to for the past year? Stress? Worry? Anxiety over getting it perfect? Something’s wrong! Why can’t I enjoy this process?

After talking with my folks last week, I realized how high my stress levels actually were. Instead of enjoying the process, I was feeling overburdened by the task. I wanted to get it right!

After taking a step back, my vision became clearer.

In 5 years, I won’t think about the driveway’s location. The size of my kitchen will be normal. Garden soil can be moved. Plants can be re-homed. New ones can be added, if necessary.

It’s going to be ok.

And so, relax. Breathe in. Breathe out.

All too often, I get caught up in end results and forget that the process can be just as important.

It’s time to gain perspective and slow down internally even if the world outside me is spinning. To remember to thank God for what we do have. To smell the earth, watch the autumn leaves slip to the ground, feel the afternoon sunshine while I work. Enjoy the progress we have made. Be grateful for a carpenter husband and his planning. That I get to experience this wild, empowering time in life.

I don’t know what I want…exactly. And that’s ok. It’s all going to be ok.