What Would You Do Now?

Following a decade of my life where I was involved with co-creating a working row-crop farm called Suzie’s Farm in San Diego, through a very public and viral Facebook Live video, we closed the San Diego location to public tours due to financial struggles.

The public response was surprising and caused me tremendous anger, resentment, and panic.

My ego fumed. Where had all those distraught people been when we struggled at the Farmer’s Markets when we needed CSA clients when we hosted public tours and events?

Busy living their own lives, of course.

When we closed the farm, my distressed ego tangled like a plastic bag tangled in barbed wire.

What would I do now?

What would I be, now?

I?

I?

I?

Now?

Now?

Now?

Like a record on repeat, people asked me, “What will you do now?!” and I had no answer for them.

My ego chorused backup, “Yeah! What will you do now?”

I had no idea.

A decade on the farm had allowed me to create and craft a carefully honed Persona of Me. It was clear. I knew my role. I played it.

Obviously, parts of that Persona were me.

I desired to feed people, encourage them to get back to their roots, eat well, support organic farmers and local businesses, learn to grow their own food, heal their bodies, minds, and spirits through communion with the Earth, connect and create community.

I homeschooled our children, was vegan, and a promoter of a simpler lifestyle.

Our motto had been Cultivate, Educate, Inspire.

I was still down with that.

But now what?

After years of being The Farmer, the mouthpiece trotted out for photo shoots and interviews, I had become less that farmer and more of a caricature of The Farmer.

Who was I, now?

In my frenzy and sorrow, in my agitation and my fear, in my lack of confidence in myself, I began to ask people for ideas.

When they asked me, “What will you do now?”

I replied with, “If you were me, what would you do now?”

Answers ranged from Start a Podcast, Write a Book, Become a Life Coach, Tour as a Public Speaker, to Start a Retreat Center, Consult, Play Golf, Get Drunk, Get High, Get Hired.

Most of these things seemed reasonable and logical; the correct and natural next step for a woman of my experience and vision.

I panicked at the array of choices. Each felt like a definite possibility, worth of my skills, an apt fit.

I wanted more than apt.

I was a mouse in a maze. Any path would take me somewhere, but where was the route to the Big Cheese?

My concern? That time would run out; that my Fifteen Minutes of Fame would pass. Worse, that it had passed, and that no one cared anymore.

You’ve made your impact, Lucila. Thank you very much. Now can you step aside? And hurry, please. We’ve got someone younger, better, more important, in touch, savvy who is next.

Ouch.

Deep in an ego-driven daze, my spirit retreated, shielding me from the outside and from the inside.

I could not hear her.

I could not hear Me.

And the things I was telling myself were not helpful. That panic, the chaos, the unruly, prevailing ego, only added to the daze.

Operating from a place of fear ain’t it. Leaping, blind, from chaotic thoughts, ain’t it.

What am I going to do now?

The best advice came from Sam, one of our loyal farmers. To the question, “What would you do if you were me:” He answered, “Nap. Eat breakfast. Take baths. Go for walks.”

Huh.

I slowed to an almost halt in order to hear.

Nap.

Eat breakfast.

Take baths.

Go for walks.

What the February?!

It was a 180 from all the other advice. so simplistic and yet, so hard.

Slow. Down.

I dare you right now if you are reading this (skimming this), can you slow down?

Can you?

His advice gave me permission, to rest, to restore, and to discover. To learn, as I found later, for the very first time, to discover myself.

OK. Maybe not the first time, but for the first time in a long time.

I took time far away.

Friends and family, places I used to go that brought me pain, I would not face.

I took 2 hour long baths and 20-minute baths.

I read books and felt the water melt from scalding to cold.

I hiked along the beach, in the valleys, in the desert, and in my neighborhood, stopping to admire flushes of new growth among the geraniums and rosemary after persistent rain, observing the light against the sheer cliff walls and the sounds of waves and birds over the water. 

I ate breakfast, sometimes rushed and standing, stuffing leftover pieces of bread in my mouth, sometimes sitting down at the table with a candle and placemat and saying grace.

I slept in.

I went to sleep early.

I dozed on the couch.

I took me almost two years to restore to original factory settings.

Hmmm….maybe, not original factory settings. Maybe Lucila 2.0. Maybe the latest and greatest update, removing the bugs and ticks, optimizing the App that is Me.

What am I going to do now?

The surviving remnant from those two years is the sense of loving myself.

The journey is not over. I know the destination now. I am better prepared. I know what to take and what to abandon., what I am willing to carry and what I must release.

My destination is Joy, whether it flickers or beams.

Consider this an Almanac or an Atlas, a Guide to getting to your one true destination: You.

Through this blog I will be your guide, your permission giver, as sojourners and aliens, into this new land, revealing, stripping back, baring the veneer you have built up over your life until You emerge.