Looking For A Little Bit of Mayberry

I almost sat down to write a blog post this week—If you’re on my email list, it’s the one I mentioned last week that I just couldn’t find the right words for.

In fact, I had already started outlining it, again.

The topic was buffering—the ways we distract ourselves from our lives through constant input. Podcasts, books, social media, YouTube, courses, and even self-improvement can become a form of noise when we’re always consuming and rarely reflecting.

The funny thing is that while I was writing about it, I realized I was actually doing the very thing I wanted to write about.

Instead of simply experiencing something, I was already trying to turn it into a blog post.

That awareness stopped me in my tracks.

Over the past few years, I’ve spent a lot of time learning, growing, planning, and trying to figure out what’s next for my future. I’ve listened to countless podcasts, followed coaches, read books, taken notes, made plans, consumed a lot of information, and have gotten certified as a life coach through two different schools. None of those things are bad, but somewhere along the way, I noticed that my mind has become crowded.

My life doesn’t necessarily feel chaotic, but it does feel loud. And lately, I’ve found myself missing something I didn’t even realize I had lost: I miss writing by hand. I miss rough drafts. I miss sitting with a question instead of rushing to find an answer. I miss exploring my thoughts without worrying about whether they’ll eventually become a blog post, an email, or a lesson for someone else. If you really know me well, honestly…I miss Mayberry (I’ll save that conversation for another day).

Most of all, I miss having enough quiet to hear my own voice.

So I’ve decided to do something a little different—an experiment, if you will.

For the next 40 days, I’m stepping away. Not from life. Not from the people I love. And not even from writing.

I’m stepping away from writing and publishing anything online, from brainstorming ideas, and from consuming the endless stream of coaching podcasts, teachings, and information that I’ve filled my mind with over the years.

Instead, I’m going to spend the next 40 days writing in a notebook, praying, reflecting, and paying attention to my own thoughts and dreams.

I’m not doing this because I have all the answers. I’m doing it because I have questions.

As I’ve been thinking about this, I’ve realized that none of us needs permission to step away for a little while—but perhaps some of us feel like we do. We live in a culture that encourages and celebrates hustle, productivity, and constant growth. As women, we are encouraged to build six-figure side-hustle businesses that are sure to set us free from dependence on anyone other than ourselves. And in order to do so, there is always another book to read, another podcast to listen to, another course to take, and another goal or milestone to chase.

But I wonder what would happen if we gave ourselves permission to pause? What if we stopped trying to optimize every free moment and simply created some space to think our own thoughts? What if we spent less time consuming everyone else’s wisdom and more time reflecting on our own? What if we were quiet long enough to listen to what God may already be trying to tell us?

We don’t always have to be producing, achieving, or learning something new. Sometimes growth looks like being still long enough to hear what has been there all along.

Like I said before, I have questions.

Questions about what I want. Questions about what’s next in life as I inch closer to retirement age. Questions about who I am when I’m not trying to produce, achieve, teach, or build something.

What do I enjoy doing, just for the sake of just doing it, when I know that no one is watching? What energizes me instead of draining me? What would I create if nobody ever saw it? What is God inviting me to enjoy, not just accomplish?

For once, I don’t want to rush to answer all my questions. I want to sit with them for awhile, because not everything we do has to become something. It’s not always about proving yourself. Sometimes it’s just about rediscovering what actually brings you joy.

If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know that I often write about slowing down, living with intention, and creating a life you actually enjoy. The truth is that I need to practice those things too. Maybe now more than ever.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

When I come back, I don’t know exactly what I’ll have to share. I don’t have a workbook, a framework, or a polished lesson waiting at the end of this. What I do have is a blank notebook, an open mind, and a willingness to listen in the midst of the quiet time that I’m really looking forward to.

My hope is that these next 40 days will bring clarity, peace, and a renewed sense of purpose and direction. And if they do, I’ll share what I learn when the time is right.

Until then, thank you for being here. Thank you for reading my words, encouraging my work, and allowing me the space to be a human being and not just a content creator.

I’ll see you on the other side—in about 40 days. Maybe I’ll find a little bit of Mayberry while I’m gone.

Stephanie