There’s a creek on our new property at Patina Meadow, and it draws me in each time we visit.
Some of you have asked me how we chose Tennessee and though there are many reasons, it all began while we worked on a few different design projects in the area. We enjoyed the history, culture, people, and design style of the region so Steve and I began looking at several different property listings.
But while we toured the different parts of the 100-acre property that is now becoming Patina Meadow, I started to feel a pull to the land.
While Steve talked further with the agent, I walked a short distance away to get a better view of the creek.
I took off my boots and socks, rolled up my pant legs, and stepped into the fresh flowing water with my bare feet… And that was it — the moment I knew Patina Meadow was right for us, just the same way Steve and I knew Patina Farm was ours when we saw the oak tree during our first visit to the Ojai property. (Read that story and more in our book, Patina Farm.)
“You can never step in the same water twice, my friend. Like flowing water, life is perpetual movement. There is nothing fixed.”
I love this quote from Bruce Lee about the parallels between the flow of life and water. And right now, as we’re in a constant state of flux here at Patina Farm, I find I need the reminder more than ever.
The tours of our home finished last month, so now we’re packing up the house. We’re boxing away memories, sorting through things we no longer need and can donate instead, and making choices about the physical objects we keep in our lives and home. We’re also preparing for the transition to an entirely new area, so it’s all a little daunting. We’re considering new business possibilities, getting to know our new community, and designing an entirely new home from the ground up.
I’ve heard from many of you who are going through similar transitions in your life, and it helps me feel connected with you, knowing we’re all in this together.
Amidst everything, when I’m feeling unsettled, I remind myself of the flowing water rushing past my ankles.
When I sit quietly, with my feet in the water and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees above, I feel like Mother Nature is telling me the answers. It’s where I go to figure things out, to bring about calm from chaos. The answers are in the silence.
And in that silence, I remember that it’s all okay.
I remember to trust, embrace, and accept the uncertainty in order to continue flowing like water.
To let go, and be swiftly carried along to the next place — never to be in the same place twice
Here’s to going with the flow,