Ask for help fatigue. 

I have ask-for-help fatigue.

I am feeling extra vulnerable from all the help I have had to ask for lately. Between the asks that come with new business training and growing my business in new ways, to all the asks of building Monarch Meadows Retreat, which, will take my entire community to bring this dream to life. And then there are the asks of my friends to hold space, pray, and let me feel everything I am feeling in this hard season.

It is a lot of asking.

And asking for help is vulnerable. Because what if they don’t want to help? That is their boundary to set. I literally teach that. What if they can’t help? Which, I am finding they can’t. Because we are all so busy. So busy with the lives we have built that we have left no white space to show up for our community. The community we miss. The community we are longing to connect with.

Vulnerable too because it is always interesting to see who does show up. Who can show up.

This ask-for-help season is feeling extra vulnerable because it is also triggering trauma from my infertility journey. It hit me when I was asking for help moving furniture. This is something I will always have to navigate differently. Because I don’t have kids to help us. I know kids don’t exist to help their parents. I get that. And my three would be 13 now. Old enough to help carry a couch. And there are so many years ahead of us without that kind of family to lean on.

And yet, chosen family loves you just as much.

Holding all of this because I am asking for help again.

Number one. I have a full training coming up in just a few weeks and I need your help to fill the room. If you or anyone you know has ever wanted to do this work with me, and you want to be part of the very first group at the soft launch of Monarch Meadows Retreat, please reach out. I will make it accessible to you. Just ask.

Number two. Saturday, April 11th, weather permitting, we are having a workday on the land. Bring gloves, shovels, and any native plants you want to donate. Come for even just an hour. We are clearing flower beds, pulling weeds, and making the land as beautiful as the buildings.

And now. These butterflies. Why these amazing pics?

These pictures are going with this extra long Easter Monday post because without me, chances are these beautiful creatures would not be here.

I plant a plant that almost no one plants on their property. Granted, it’s flowers smell like decaying flesh. So there is that. And I provided l 75 pipevine swallowtails a place to overwinter. I kept them safe and sheltered all winter long until they were ready to join the world.

Did they ask for my help? No.

Did they need it? Yes. They did.

So today, may you remember this.

As vulnerable as it feels to ask for help, we create space for people to love us well. We also create space to work a muscle our hearts are desperate to build. The vulnerability muscle. Because our hearts are desperate for connection. And without vulnerability, there is none of that.