Alchemy in the In-Between🌾

There’s a certain stillness that settles in after Christmas.

The rush fades. The noise quiets. And in that quiet, everything I’ve been avoiding seems to rise to the surface.

I’ve struggled here — right in the in-between.

When things slow down and life feels stagnant, my thoughts get louder. Doubt creeps in. Old emotions resurface. Questions I thought I had already answered knock again. Over the last several days, I’ve found myself praying harder…not because I’m lost, but because I’m listening.

A lot has been coming up for me. Processing it is getting easier with time, but it’s still uncomfortable. Healing rarely feels gentle while it’s happening. And this is where I’ve been learning about alchemy.

Alchemy is the art of transformation.

It’s the ability to take what feels heavy, confusing, or painful and turn it into something meaningful. Not by ignoring it but by working with it. Sitting with it long enough to let it shape you instead of harden you.

Lately, I’ve noticed something shifting in me.

I’m becoming more creative…not just in what I make, but in how I think about sharing it. I find myself wanting to market my book in ways that feel more public, more visible, more vulnerable. That desire alone tells me I’m standing at the edge of growth.

Because being seen stretches me.

The thought of putting myself out there — speaking publicly, sharing my story beyond the safety of quiet corners, pushes me far outside my comfort zone. I haven’t fully stepped into it yet, but the pull is there. And I’m learning that even the want to grow is part of the alchemy.

This season is teaching me that transformation doesn’t always arrive as bold action. Sometimes it arrives as an inner nudge. A restlessness. A quiet knowing that staying hidden no longer fits the woman I’m becoming.

I’m realizing that dreams don’t manifest through waiting for confidence to appear. They manifest through faith — through trusting that the universe, that God, meets us when we step forward even while our hands are shaking.

So I’m holding space for the discomfort.

For the questions.

For the slow days and the heavy emotions.

Instead of fighting them, I’m learning to transmute them — into prayer, into creativity, into intention. That is my alchemy.

Like wildflowers, growth doesn’t always happen where everyone can see it. Sometimes it happens deep underground, long before the bloom breaks the surface. And I trust that if I continue to lean into faith, continue to listen, continue to create — even when it’s uncomfortable, what’s meant for me will find me.

This season isn’t asking me to be fearless.

It’s asking me to be willing.

And that, too, is alchemy. 🌾