Field Notes · Slow Space
Midwinter reflections on sunlight and holding space for things to grow - and the Butter Field website and Influence Archetypes are set to bloom.
Field Notes is a creative series from Between Seasons, sharing a monthly dispatch from the Butter Field studio - part mood board, part growth journal. A glimpse behind the scenes at what’s blooming, what we’re learning and the quiet rhythms shaping change beneath the surface.
The sunlight this season is doing something to me.
Sparkling through the gum trees like it knows a secret. Midwinter is still crisp in the air, but on my afternoon walks - a ritual now during toddler nap time - the light catches me in just the right way. A flicker of motivation and a softness to the clarity.
This month, I'm reminded of how much the seasons shape my spirit. How weather becomes a kind of rhythm keeper - a gentle accountability partner, a mood shifter and a collaborator in my creative work. The days are still short, but the light is coming back. And in the quiet warmth of my office at night, with cosy wool socks, a hot cuppa and lit by the yellow glow of my desk lamp, I feel like I’m holding space for something to grow.
Slow, yes. But deeply rooted.
What’s Growing?
Butter Field is buzzing this month - not loudly, but with a deep hum of clarity.
I’m working on two things that feel like anchor points for the next season:
The full Butter Field website, which is finally starting to reflect the vision in my head (a conversion I feel like I’ve always been challenged by). It’s taking shape slowly and intentionally - like building a garden bed you know you’ll return to over and over.
I’m trying not to procrastinate via perfectionism, allowing it to iterate and regrow season after season as all beautiful flowers do - but it’s a fine line I've always struggled to walk.
The Influence Archetypes - a soul-meets-strategy resource I’m really excited about. It’s a practical framework for influencing up, down and across, but it’s also a love letter to the different ways we lead. I can’t wait to share it with you.
University final assignment marking is done, the semester is over, and the Butter Field garden is ready to bloom. There’s space now - not just in the calendar, but in my creative field.
Studio Soundtrack
This month I’m listening to a playlist built for slow mornings, focused afternoons and golden-hour thinking time (on daycare days, of course). A little Chance Peña, a little Noah Kahan, a little Michael Kiwanuka - tender, grounded and quietly energising.
And when moments allow it, I’m returning to the always trusted Dare to Lead with Brené Brown podcast - the episode on “The Power of Knowing What You Don’t Know” with Adam Grant.
Note to Self
The song Is What It Is by Chance Peña shuffled onto my Spotify recently and this line sank into me - it’ll be my mantra for July to remind myself that slow doesn’t mean stuck. Some light takes time to rise.
If this is a note someone in your life needs to hear too - pass it on.
Reading & Reflections
This month, I’m queueing up Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman as an audiobook for my walking-and-thinking time. It’s a book I’ve had on my list for years but never actually opened. It's a mindset reset - a reminder of the power of slow cognition and deep trust in how we make meaning.
One insight that’s stuck with me:
We’re wired to trust the stories our minds tell us, even when they’re based on instinct rather than evidence.
Ouch - that feels familiar. Especially in moments of self-doubt or over-analysis - when building something new, the loudest voice isn’t always the wisest. I’m learning to pause, breathe, and ask: Is this a fast thought or a true one?
💬 Have you read this book? Tell me your thoughts if you have.
What’s Coming Up?
Here’s what’s unfolding this month:
Next week’s Reflections essay explores the quiet work of transformation
Finishing touches on the Butter Field website
First peeks of the Influence Archetype Profiles
Building a sustainable work rhythm that can hold both ambition and rest
Until August, I’ll be chasing the sun across winter skies and tending the slow bloom. (And still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it’s July).
Rooting for you always,
