December was quiet here at Small Batch Garden, and it was supposed to be.
After returning to full-time work at my local library and trying to find a balance between the time I spend there, running my business, taking care of my home and my family, and just daily life, I hit a wall I didn't see coming. Not burnout exactly, but something close—a deep tiredness that told me to stop pushing.
So I stopped.
The Permission to Rest
The irony isn't lost on me: I talk about working with natural rhythms, about letting the garden rest in winter, about trusting dormancy. But applying that to my own work? Much harder.
December taught me something important. Consistency matters, but so does integrity. And I can't write authentically about slow, seasonal living while running myself ragged to maintain a schedule.
Nature doesn't apologize for going dormant. Neither should I.
What I Did Instead
I read. I organized my yarn stash. I made tea. I journaled and wrote as much - or as little- of what was on my mind. I sat with my morning coffee without immediately thinking about all that I had to do today.
I remembered why I started this work in the first place.
Coming Up in February
I'm back, and February is dedicated to something that feels especially important after my December experience: radical self-care.
Not the commercialized version with expensive products and Instagram-worthy routines. I'm talking about the unglamorous, essential work of actually tending to ourselves. The kind of self-care that recognizes you can't pour from an empty cup, but also knows that filling your cup is important work, not selfish indulgence.
Herbal allies for the long haul – Adaptogens, nervines, and daily practices that support us when we're doing hard, sustained work - the work of living.
Self-care as resistance – Why choosing to rest, to say no, to prioritize your own sustainability isn't optional - it's foundational
Practical rituals – The small, repeatable practices that actually matter. Morning routines that ground you. Evening wind-downs that help you release the day. Midday moments that bring you back to yourself.
I'm not promising a rigid schedule, but I am promising authentic, useful information that comes from a rested place.
Thanks for being here.