Productive Chaos
This week has felt like juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle… on gravel… uphill.
Oddly enough, I think I’m finally starting to realize something.
For a long time, my brain has had this annoying habit of getting stuck in what I can only describe as analysis paralysis. My neurodivergent brain loves to obsess over the perfect way to do something. Every decision turns into ten more decisions. Every project grows legs. Every to-do list becomes a giant, tangled web that somehow convinces me nothing can be started until everything is figured out.
Spoiler alert: that doesn’t work.
This week, I’ve been trying something different.
Instead of obsessing over every little detail, I’ve just… started doing the work.
Not perfectly.Not beautifully.Just doing it.
Ironically, I feel far more productive this way.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I also know this isn’t the healthiest version of productivity either. Running at full speed from sunrise until I fall into bed isn’t exactly sustainable. There has to be a middle ground somewhere between brain paralysis and productive chaos. I’m still looking for it.
And honestly? I know everyone probably gets tired of hearing entrepreneurs talk about how hard everything is. I don’t ever want this page to become one long “woe is me” story. That’s never been the goal.
But I also think it’s important to show that this life isn’t magically easier because it looks pretty on social media.
It’s not all fresh flowers, baby goats, sourdough loaves, and aesthetic farm photos.
Sometimes it’s spreadsheets.Sometimes it’s website glitches.Sometimes it’s standing over a baby goat adoption spreadsheet wondering why I have 23 people on the list but because it's 'back to school time' no one has the time, energy, funds, to actually pull the trigger on the goats that they desperately want but can't make work right now, no matter how much mentoring I can provide. That is a wholeee other brain on fire thing that I will sort out soon but makes me a little anxious.
The reality behind the pretty pictures is…well…work.
The beautiful part is that the work actually matters.
It matters when someone messages me because they absolutely loved my whipped tallow and asks if I can make a specific formulation for them next time.
It matters when a local teacher signs up for one of our Garden to Jar canning classes, knowing that they’ll take those skills back to their own students and help even more families become a little more self-sufficient.
It matters when I finally get to package my first batches of cured tallow soap after weeks of waiting. I’ll admit, it stings a little knowing that if I don’t charge $10 a bar, I’m not actually making a profit. But it’s also incredibly encouraging that demand has been so strong I can barely keep it on the shelves.
Those moments remind me exactly why I started this.
Of course, while all of that is happening…
The goats are starting to wean their babies, which means it’s time to get back into a regular milking routine.
Everyone needs their hooves trimmed.
I’m about twenty laying hens short of where I’d like to be—and honestly, I probably needed those chickens about four weeks ago.
The gardens never stop growing.
The emails never stop coming.
The to-do list somehow reproduces overnight.
And then…
There’s the huge event.
The one we’ve been quietly working on behind the scenes.
The one we’ll finally announce tomorrow.
I already know what’s going to happen.
The second that announcement goes live, everything is going to get wonderfully, beautifully chaotic.
And I can’t wait. Seriously.
I’m trying to prepare in a way that works smarter instead of harder—streamlining processes, simplifying systems, creating better workflows, and hiring a few extra hands to help during event nights so guests have the best experience possible.
Will everything go perfectly?
Absolutely not.
Will something unexpected happen?
Without question.
Will it feel like everything is happening all at once?
Probably.
But here’s the funny thing…
I’m actually excited for the moment when everything hits full speed.
Because if things get crazy, it means people are coming.
It means families are making memories.
It means classes are filling.
It means products are selling.
It means this little dream we’ve been building one project, one goat, one jar, one loaf of bread, and one bar of soap at a time… is continuing to grow.
So here’s to productive chaos.
Maybe someday I’ll figure out that elusive balance between overthinking and overdoing.
Until then…
I’ve got goats to milk, soap to wrap, chickens to find, hooves to trim, a website to tweak, and one really exciting announcement to share.
See you tomorrow.
I have a feeling things are about to get a little wild… and I honestly can’t wait.
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