Fallow was okay for a while, but not for the rest of her life.

Taking it easy, recuperating, had been important after what she’d been through.  But now, it was becoming a way of life, a life without any future all was same old same old.

A new year and an attempt to make and keep some resolutions wasn’t working.  Only Day 9 and they were proving unengaging.

Fallow had become resistant to the new and the different as time had gone on.  

None of this is helped when we recognise, as a species, we’re loss-averse, even when, by our own admission, what we have isn’t that great.

Breaking open the fallow ground, to “do something with our lives,” is difficult … but not impossible.

Beneath the surface of our lives, lying dormant, are memories of dreams and hopes and aspirations we once held.  Recovering and reimagining these is a dangerously disruptive thing – like ploughing, breaking things open.

Moving closer towards them – as in reading, TEdtalks and events (and suchlike), and talking with others who can help us is a harrowing experience – as in, breaking down the rough ploughing into something ready for planting.

Then, when we do something, playfully and experimentally, it’s like sowing the future – here’s something capable of growing into a crop and harvest.

She had come a long way with her company of knowingll that we learn through this, prepares us for the new season, and more.