Midlife isn’t a crisis—it’s a wild, holy becoming. This is your invitation to experience midlife as it was meant to be: sweet, curious, delicious.
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You can't repair what you won't stop using.
Published 29 days ago • 3 min read
Support for women ripening into their second bite of life.
Hi Reader,
Yesterday I scrolled upon Andrew Scott reading Everything Is Going To Be Alright by Derek Mahon:
How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The lines flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.
I watched it at least 3 times!
Last week I had jaw surgery, which is a very specific kind of misery. I couldn't change the level of discomfort or the tempo of my healing, but I could lie down in a riot of sunshine and know that the experience was temporary.
And in that lying down, my whole being exhaled. I wasn't counting down to be anywhere or do anything. I was just there, held by late afternoon light, listening to the specific rhythm of my own breath and my daughter arranging her interior design sticker worlds.
"Mama, you look so sweet resting there." -Thea
She saw my value, my sweetness, when I was flat on my back with an ice pack. When I couldn't make dinner or tidy the living room or be "on" in any conventional way.
Reader, you have that same value right now. Not when you've earned it. Right now, exactly as you are.
The magic of sweet idleness—dolce far niente—happens in the quiet, empty spaces we usually rush to fill.
It's about nourishing your watchful heart. Noticing how you feel. Knowing yourself in the stillness. Understanding who you are outside the confines of clocking-in-and-out culture.
The container of a retreat is an ideal place to embody its deep medicine.
When we slow down enough to truly rest, we begin to hear the missing pieces. The voice that's been trying to get our attention. The one that knows what we actually need, not what we think we should want. We can finally hear what our soul has been whispering all along.
Agency—real agency—emerges when we become conscious of our inner landscape. When we stop automatically acting on every demand, internal or external. That's what gives rise to our fullest, most creative, most authentic selves.
Before I say more about the retreat itself, I want to invite you to practice with me in real time:
This Sunday at noon EST, I'm holding space for you to identify one belief or fear that's blocking your access to sweet idleness.
Maybe it's "I might not meet the expectations." Maybe it's "If I slow down, I’ll never catch back up." Maybe it's something trickier, harder to name.
We'll spend about 60 minutes together, and I'll guide you through a process to soften that belief—so you can begin to release it.
If you're curious about the retreat, this will give you a felt sense of how I teach and hold space, and what it's like to be with the women in my community. I'll stay on afterward to answer any questions about Tuscany.
And if the retreat isn't for you? Come anyway. This practice is for anyone ready to soften what's blocking their access to rest.
When we're on retreat, we surrender to spaciousness. To time out of time.
We explore the land and notice which path calls to us. We sit with fabric scraps and thread, letting our hands lead without a plan. We drink our morning coffee slowly enough to watch how the light moves across the table, what it illuminates, what it leaves in shadow.
There's sweet relief in clearly knowing who you are underneath the busy.
In being true to the most authentic version of yourself without apology or performance.
In finally experiencing safety in slowness. In savoring the beauty and synchronicity around you.
That's what we'll practice together at Il Dolce Far Niente: From Overdoing to Overflowing this October in Tuscany—a very small group of women surrendering to spaciousness in the wild countryside of Italy.
How I'd love to sit across the table from you!
xx, Brooke
P.S. Here's what to bring on Sunday:
A candle and match
Scrap paper
Pencil, charcoal, or crayons
That's it. Just you and these simple things.
Midlife isn’t a crisis—it’s a wild, holy becoming.
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