This past week was one of those weeks. The kind where everything seems to come crashing down at once, and all the confidence you’ve built starts slipping through your fingers.
Over the past few months, I’ve honestly been proud of myself. Life, as always, had its ups and downs—but I was handling it. I felt strong. Grounded. Even quietly impressed with how I was keeping it all together. But then, as life tends to do, it sent a whole new set of challenges my way. Not just one thing—many things, all at once.
Things I have no control over.
Lessons I cant learn for others.
And no matter how hard I tried to stay grounded, nothing seemed to work. All I could do was reach for the tools I’ve gathered over time—the ones that help sense of chaos. Still, I felt stuck in a swirl of frustration and helplessness.
So this morning, I grabbed my camera and went for a drive around the farm.
There’s a male ostrich here who always chases me out of the camp. I thought maybe I’d try to get a photo of him today—just a small win. But no luck—he chased me out again. The springbuck were too far, and with that stubborn ostrich standing guard, I couldn’t get close. I drove back home feeling even more frustrated than when I started.
And then… I saw it.
A heap of rubble.
Just a pile of broken poles and wires. Nothing special. But I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I stopped the car and sat there for a long while, trying to understand what about it had caught my attention.
And then it hit me: that heap of rubble looked exactly like how I felt.
A little broken in places. Not polished or put together. Just… messy.
The tears came. Grateful tears, because I realised something important: I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. This moments, with all its frustrations heartaches, and confusion, is part of the process. If I lean in and learn what it’s trying to teach me, something beautiful will grow from this, too.
Every breakdown is a layer peeling away, making room for something better. We must just be willing to change!
I may not be where I want to be, but I’m right where I need to be. I am going to be more than fine, its all is going to work out the way it should.
Sitting there, looking at the rubble, I started to smile. Not because everything is suddenly fixed, but because I know it will be.
I drove away from that pile of rubble feeling lighter AND
Grateful for the farm.
Grateful for that unexpected moment.
Grateful for my camera. Grateful for my talent …. and grateful—even for the mess.
Because the mess is what makes room for the growth.
Float and flow Adri … float and flow!