Lying Fallow: Space for purpose to dance with creative destruction

picture of blueberry fields in the Fall after harvest with small tree in foreground and blue skies.

So much has been written about the stresses and upheavals of the pandemic. I am saturated and, if f truth be told, I’m mostly avoiding reading these things. (My solution? Bookmarked a ton of them to ‘read later!” Ha!)

On one hand, the changes we’ve had to make have both punished us and created new insights, practices and opportunities. On the other hand, we are so friggen worn out, that reflecting and acting on those insights seems to be a dream at best.

For me the call is to lie fallow. To rest my mind and my body. This is nothing novel: I am not alone. Like a piece of precious farmland, there was need for recovery. No disturbing the soil and all its amazing underground microbes and insects, making the soil appear at rest, while still vibrantly alive.

I realized I was REALLY worn out and took the summer off to make some space. My pull towards letting my professional work lie fallow for a while was to understand what I want to say “yes” to in the future. Reorient my purpose, maybe even hone it down a bit.

It felt good. Then the Summer spilled into the Fall and then Winter and I was still on pause. I had no pull to return to my previous pace. I started playing around by saying I was on sabbatical, but that has an academic connotation to it. And, at age 63 and as someone who HAS saved for retirement, I could not exclude the possibility that I was done with being a more-than-full-time-workaholic consultant. Who knows? It is an open question.

What has emerged is that this resting period is a dance between listening for my purpose, and a good dose of creative destruction – that space of stopping things, of purposely destroying things to understand something deeper than a well-honed practice of my professional work. Sure, I can facilitate. Sure, I can help with deep strategic work. But what is happening at a deeper level? Is the work actually changing anything? Getting something significant done? Or is it just more consultant process? Stopping became a recurrent theme.

For a long time I’ve resisted the call to lie fallow. First there was the scarcity mindset (“I have to keep earning!” “If I stop, I will disappear!”) Then the pandemic produced a surge of need around warm, human electronic mediated connection and work. We all responded. Now those skills that I’ve honed since the late 90’s are well distributed. There are many wonderful, particularly YOUNGER practitioners to whom people can turn.

Now I have said “YES” to a rest. It is already paying me back.

  1. I am getting more and, more restful, rest. I was exhausted more than I understood. Rest lets my brain notice more, reflect versus react. I became a huge grouch these past 18 months and the grouch is taking a break. I am being a better grandmother/primary adult for my grandkids. I am ready for reaching out to others again.
  2. I am not interested in doing “more of the same.” I’ll leave that to others. Creative destruction at work. I know it is hard for me to say no. I worry about the unintended consequences of saying no. But I’m committed!
  3. If I am to say yes to work, it needs to be in a space of expansive learning. I want work with a potential for substantive change (at any scale – small is good!) not just band aids or one-offs. And it has to be with people who bring joy to the work, and we feel this pull to work together.

That last one goes to purpose. What do I want to plant in my fallow field? In the spaciousness of that field, I need to cultivate a better understanding what I mean by “a space of expansive learning,” “substantive change,” and the “who I want to work with.”

One thing that I’ve learned more deeply over the pandemic months is to ask myself “how will I know if I am making progress on my purpose?” What indicators will help me reflect, notice and iteratively move forward?

There are a bunch of things that I’m now turning to/revisiting to make progress on my purpose. “Braiding Sweetgrass” by Robin Wall Kimmerer. “Learning to Make a Difference” by Bev and Etienne Wenger-Trayner. “Initiating and Inviting Generative Change: entry and contracting for emergent outcomes in results driven organizations” by Tova Averbuch. “Burnout: the Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle” by Amelia and Emily Nagoski. Browsing is probably a better word than reading. Like wind blowing across the fallow fields. I’m building a list of people I want to reach out to when the field is ready to be planted.

What is happening to your fields? Join a conversation Acute Incite is hosting about pausing on March 28th – details here. And look for a follow up post with some broader reflections on how we work, how we might rethink work interspersed with fallow periods.

3 thoughts on “Lying Fallow: Space for purpose to dance with creative destruction”

  1. I field the same thing 😉 and as a comment starts I can see it more as a post. But just to say here (a) I count as a fortunate series of events we crossed paths long ago and (b) that we had opportunity to work together many times.

    I yearn for some fallow time and I worry if I can find the purposeful tending again. I don’t doubt it.

    Your fellow fallow… and we ought to talk soon, just had a catch-up with our mutual friend in the far northeast and we both talked about you fondly.

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