A memorable experience where a hobby pushed me beyond my comfort zone was when I took up beekeeping a few years back. Though I had extensive gardening experience and a solid understanding of plant life cycles, working closely with bees added a whole new layer to how I approached the garden. Beekeeping requires a calm, methodical approach, and there's something about interacting with these delicate, industrious creatures that forces you to slow down and be incredibly attentive. Initially, the buzzing and activity of thousands of bees felt overwhelming, but my years of working with plants and observing their needs helped me approach the hive with patience. I drew on my knowledge of how different plants and flowers interact with bees, optimizing the garden's layout to support both the plants and the bees. This balance between the garden ecosystem and the hive taught me a lot about resilience, harmony, and being adaptable. The experience reinforced my appreciation for every element of a garden ecosystem, from soil health to pollinators. I found that each aspect of gardening has its own rhythm and learning curve, and beekeeping took that understanding to a new level. I learned that stepping outside my comfort zone in such a unique way made me more adaptable and resourceful, qualities that are essential when tackling complex garden projects for clients. Whether it's managing a tricky plant arrangement or creating a new garden structure, this experience has deepened my ability to assess challenges calmly and find practical, sustainable solutions.
As a teen I would go to concerts and just lock in on the drummer. I was mesmerized. In a YOLO moment, I decided I wanted to learn how to play the drums at 26 years old and that I was going to teach myself. It did not dawn on me until AFTER buying a drum set, that I wouldn't be going on this journey alone... I would essentially be taking my neighbors and roommates with me. It's one thing to tolerate your own inadequacies when starting a new hobby, but I knew everyone within a quarter mile radius of my room ALSO has to do the same, it takes a lot of mental fortitude. I constantly argued with myself if what I was doing was worth it. I learned how to create boundaries with people around me-- when was the right and wrong times to play. I learned how to be vulnerable even in the face of those who were annoyed and express how much this meant to me. I started playing drums with the hope of looking cool and boosting my confidence. But the opposite happened-I struggled, felt embarrassed, yet found myself feeling more connected than ever to the people who supported me. I'm 35 today and still playing (now on an electric kit-- haha!)