What do you really want?

To scatter confetti and dance with desire.

Kitchen in a Venetian Palazzo ~ Skye McAlpine.

The last time I wrote to you, I felt like I was on a treadmill that just kept speeding up, the incline growing steeper every day. Struggling to juggle everything—motherhood, marriage, friendship, writing, designing and running a business—and feeling like I was falling short in all of it. Then, something happened that changed everything. My husband was trampled by a bull, during what should have been a routine culling. The bull charged at him several times, luckily only crushing his lower leg—though in all honesty, it’s a miracle he survived. Recovery has been lengthy and painful. The swelling and blood clots meant a decent stay in hospital and a lot of at home care, as he couldn’t weight bare for months.

The incident flipped my world upside down. My daily life scattered into chaos—like someone tossing confetti into the air, leaving me scrambling to pick up the pieces. With my usual routines, business activities, household chores and parental duties thrown into turmoil, I had to scale everything back (including Substack) and focus on the bare minimum to survive. It’s funny how fragile life is, how quickly it can change and how so much of what we worry about or work for, really isn’t such a big deal when faced with something like this.

Since that day, he’s changed. We’ve both changed. What we thought we so desperately wanted, what we’ve been working for and investing in for the past eight years seemed well, pointless. Whilst he was lying there covering his face, the question going through his mind as the bull kept striking again and again was— ‘What am I doing this for? Why am I taking this risk’? As it turned out, the cattle stud we had been investing in and working so hard for, in the face of death was not what he wanted. It had been his life-long dream. He was good at it. It suited his personality, played to all his strengths, and yet when he was given what felt like an ultimatum, it wasn’t worth his life.

This wasn’t our first set back we had with the stud. We got through a severe drought in our first year, bushfires, a lightning strike that took out two of our favourite pregnant females and our property got hit with a tornado that took out 150 large trees, it looked like a war zone. So, you see, we weren’t just giving up. We were making a choice. A choice to let it go. A choice to spend more time together as a family. A choice to make life a little bit easier.

It’s a powerful thing to be forced to sit back and question, if what we are running towards is still what we truly want. I’m the first to admit that when I set off on a dream or have a goal to accomplish, I become blindsided by all of the challenges. I see them as tests before I can claim victory. Somehow making the victory more satisfying or perhaps making me more worthy of the prize. Over the past eight months, I realised that I find the hard way easier somehow—a familiar friend if you will.

But it’s not what I want anymore. I am tired of hard. I am exhausted, beaten and scarred. What I want is more slow, more ease, more time—more pleasure. I’ve always been scared to say aloud what I want, scared of my desires. Skillful at burying them, until this forced exploration of ‘self’ burst them open from the depths of my soul. It has always felt risky and indulgent to explore my desires. I’ve been raised to only receive when I have worked hard for something. To not give in to my desires. To only experience pleasure at the end of a hard day’s work. Breaking through my own barriers around desire and want has been a brutal and emotional fight of wills. And yet, here I am. Finally living a life that I truly desire. Free to speak aloud what it is that I truly want. To only move forward with the projects and relationships that feel aligned and easy. Feeling into my desires and liberating them from their chains.

It hasn’t been easy to reach this place. The process of shedding what no longer serves me has been both painful and liberating, a constant tug-of-war between what I thought I should be and who I truly am. But, in this journey of letting go, I’ve discovered a deep sense of peace. I’ve come to understand that ease is not laziness, and pleasure is not a reward to be earned—rather a necessary element for a fulfilling life.

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; if you can think—and not make thoughts your aim, if you can meet with Triumph and Disaster;

And treat those two impostors just the same, if you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken.

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken. And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools…

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it.

If by Rudyard Kipling.

As I move forward, I’m not chasing anymore. I’m choosing. Choosing what feels good, what brings joy, what aligns with who I am now, not who I was trying to be. It’s terrifying in its own way, to let go of the struggle and embrace the flow, but it’s also exhilarating. We are rebuilding, not from a place of scarcity or survival, but from a place of abundance and desire.

So, thank you for your patience as I’ve navigated this shift. Life has changed in ways I couldn’t have predicted, and I’m learning to embrace the beauty in the unknown. I’m excited to continue this journey with you, now from a place of ease, alignment, and authenticity.

Can’t wait to talk soon.

With love,

Lis x

P.S I would love to know what it is you truly desire if you’d be willing to share?

Beautiful spaces from House & Garden.