We started ripping out our old deck in late January. It’s mid-May, and we’re still building. (We’re not slow. We’re thorough.)  

And then, over the weekend, Blake and I stood back and really looked at it. Some of it works. Some of it doesn’t. So this week, we’re taking part of it down and redoing it. Sigh.

There’s a proverb I keep coming back to. When’s the best time to plant a tree? Twenty years ago. When’s the second best time? Now.

The same is true for changing course. The best time to notice something isn’t working is before you build it. The second best time is now.

This could feel like failure

It doesn’t.

It could feel like wasted time, wasted lumber, wasted effort. Like we should have seen it sooner, or planned it better, and for sure gotten it right the first time.

But transformation is the willingness to take something apart whether it’s something you built, something you were attached to, or something you thought was done. And that’s a refinement of vision, not a failure of it.

In other words, you can’t always see what’s wrong until you’re standing in what’s right enough to notice.

What’s happening this week

If you’ve been feeling pulled inward lately and are more tired than usual, dreaming vividly, and emotionally stirred without knowing why, trust me, you’re not imagining it.

The Earth’s electromagnetic pulse has been elevated. And if you’re like me, you probably feel it in your body. The energy right now is asking us to prepare, clear space, look at what we’re building, and ask is this actually what I want?

By the end of the week, there’s a powerful New Moon. It’s also the first Super New Moon of the year. Sure, New Moons are for planting seeds, but this one in particular is asking three questions. 

What are you building? What foundations are you laying? And are you willing to change course now, while it’s still early, rather than live with something that doesn’t quite fit?

The belief that won’t survive this week

“It’s too late to change it now.”

It’s not. It’s never too late to change course. It’s only more expensive, inconvenient, and humbling. 😏

But the cost of not changing is higher. The cost is living with something you knew wasn’t right, just because you didn’t want to admit you needed to start again.

It’s okay to tear it down and rebuild it better. 

And on Friday, Blake turns another year older

We’ll celebrate the way we always do, quietly and together. Probably looking at the half-finished deck and laughing about how long it’s taking.

But that’s the thing about building something with someone. It’s never just about the project. It’s about who you become while you’re building it. The patience you learn (or not), and the things you let go of (or not). And especially the way you figure out (usually slowly and imperfectly) how to do this together.

Why this matters

This week is about seeing clearly and acting on what you see, not six months from now or when it’s more convenient. Now.

That means that if something in your life needs to be taken apart and rebuilt, this is the week to start. The timing is never perfect, but the second best time is now.

The deck will get finished eventually. It’ll be better for the rebuild. And years from now, we won’t remember the delay, but we’ll have the thing we actually wanted.

That’s how it works. One board and one choice at a time. And one honest look at what’s not working, and the willingness to change it.

Jonni

P.S. If you’re in the middle of rebuilding something, whether that’s a relationship, a career, a sense of self (not a deck, I can’t help you there), and you could use someone to help you see what’s working and what isn’t, someone who works from the soul out, not just the surface in, I recommend my UNLIMITED container. It gives you 7, 30, or 90 days of real-time live moment-by-moment support. It’s perfect for when the work is slow and the lumber keeps piling up. 

P.P.S. What I wrote in Blake’s birthday card: Thanks for building (and rebuilding) with me.