My Compass

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about what guides me.

Not in a grand way.

But in the quiet moments…
the ones where decisions don’t feel obvious
and the next step isn’t clear.

There is so much in motion right now.

Growth.
Opportunity.
Demand.

And with all of it comes questions.

What do I do next?
How do I expand?
What do I say yes to…
and what do I protect?

And yet, in the middle of all of it, I keep coming back to something simple.

As exhausting as this work is…

I love every single moment.

That feeling.

It doesn’t shout.
It doesn’t push.

But it is steady.

It shows up in the early mornings.
In the quiet of the kitchen.
In the rhythm of the dough beneath my hands.

And I’m beginning to understand…

That feeling is my compass.

There was a time in my life when I didn’t have that.

When I was searching.

Trying to make sense of grief.
Trying to understand loss.
Trying to find my footing in a life that no longer looked the way I thought it would.

And somewhere in that searching…

I found sourdough.

Or maybe…

it found me.

“Find your sourdough.”

I say that often.

But what I mean is this:

Find the thing that brings you back to yourself.

The thing that grounds you.
That steadies you.
That gives you rhythm when everything else feels uncertain.

For me, it became this work.

This life.

This way of showing up.

But even now, there are moments where I don’t know what to do.

Moments where the path ahead feels too big.

Too undefined.

Too much.

And when that happens, I hear my uncle’s voice.

“When you don’t know what to do…do nothing.”

At first, that felt counterintuitive.

We are taught to act.
To decide.
To move.

But I am learning something different.

There is wisdom in the pause.

In sitting with it.
In not rushing the answer.

In praying.
In listening.

In allowing clarity to come…instead of forcing it.

Because when I slow down…

When I return to my faith…

When I place it in God’s hands instead of trying to control it myself…

The next step reveals itself.

Not all at once.

But enough.

Grief taught me that.

That not everything can be fixed.

That not everything can be rushed.

That some things must be carried…until they begin to transform.

And maybe that’s what this is.

Not just building something.

But becoming something.

So for now…

I will keep showing up.

I will keep baking.

I will keep listening to that quiet, steady feeling that tells me I am where I am meant to be.

Because I trust it now.

That pull.

That peace.

That knowing.

It’s my compass.

Warmly~
Kathy
Art of The Crumb