On chickens, creativity, and a more connected life

My thoughts about the future of this space

It’s my birthday today, friends! I’m turning forty-seven, a fact I have to keep reminding myself of because I’ve been mentally jumping ahead to this birthday for months, so I spent a few hours yesterday believing I was turning forty-eight.

Does that happen to you yet? From talking to other fortysomething friends it seems to be one of the telltale signs of midlife: no longer knowing, or much caring, exactly what year you’re inhabiting from day to day.

my every-morning cup of tea in my favorite mug…floral robe optional.

At forty-seven, I am no longer really in my “mid” forties, am I? Here I sit, in my “late” forties, which means…well…that I’m getting precariously close to to fifty. And as I approach the half-century mark, as one does, I’ve been spending more and more time thinking about what I want from life, from my career, from my family, from my friends. Which has led me to thinking about what I want to create in this space, this little digital world you’re joining me in today.

Drinking with chickens - highly recommended

I’ve spent a lot of time with my chickens over the last few months. I got the chicks in two batches, about four weeks’ difference in age, which in young chicken years isn’t insignificant. When the younger chicks were old enough to move outdoors, the older chicks still greatly outsized them. Combining flocks is always a bit delicate because of the “pecking order” nature of chicken communities, but in this case the size difference made me nervous. So I put a lot of thought and time into how to get them peacefully cohabitating - and after a few weeks of regular monitoring, I’m happy to say they are all hanging together in the coop. The older chickens are still ruling the roost, literally, and can be occasionally more controlling to the babies than I’d like, but they aren’t beating them up, and the whole group is free-ranging together - something I wouldn’t have been comfortable with a couple of weeks ago. After all that work, I can now relax and enjoy watching them, occasionally with a glass of wine in hand. And yesterday, we finally got our first egg.

I have to laugh sometimes at the romantic idea of activities like chicken-tending or vegetable gardening equalling “a simple life” — because “simplicity” can, in reality, look awfully complicated. It’s not “simpler”, really, for Eric and I to sink thousands of dollars and dozens of hours of construction time into a chicken coop setup, hundreds of dollars of feed, and months to raise said chicks to even be old enough to lay eggs. It would be a lot “simpler” to go to the store and buy the eggs, or even buy them directly from a farmer the way I do much of our other food. But it wouldn’t be as satisfying, at least for me. It would feel a lot less connected. And that connection matters.

When we say we want a “simpler life”, I think what we are often craving is actually more connection. Connection to the rhythms that give shape to our days. To the creative forces behind our work and play. To the food we eat and the clothing we put on our bodies and the accessories with which we adorn our homes. To the people we love, and maybe also to the people we could love, if we allowed ourselves to.

We don’t all find the same ways of connecting - it could be chickens, but it could also be art, or baking, or prayer, or yoga. But in this modern, streamlined, efficient and often impersonal world, we’re learning that making things easy doesn’t always make them better. There is satisfaction in the connection required to do things by hand and with heart.

During my hiatus from this space, I spent a lot of time thinking about what I want it to be and what I want it to provide to those of you who show up here regularly. For a long time I have been active in multiple online spaces, trying to create different kinds of experiences around the internet, and it’s created a bit of a scattered and diluted feeling for me (and, I’m sure, you!)

Finally I asked myself: what is it I’m trying to say and create? And, is there a way to centralize that message and mission in one place? And the answer came to me clearly: I want to help people connect - with their creativity, with their homes and food, with their spirits and bodies, with one another. And, right now, Substack is the right “hub” from which to do it.

Starting in August, you’ll start to see new offerings roll out including a weekly “Deep Steep” newsletter where I’ll share musings like this as well as what I’m reading, sipping, making and creating.

I’m glad you’re here — and I’m looking forward to all of us helping one another create more connected lives.

Edited: When I wrote this post I was planning a fall rollout leaning heavily on behind-the-paywall community-building, but on further thought I’ve decided to hit “pause” on paid subscriptions indefinitely. I’m hopeful that leaning into inclusivity will still create the intimacy we’re all craving, and my direct messages are open if you’d like to say “hello” privately.