A Life That Lets Me Breathe

Yesterday, I freaked out. Not in some dramatic, life-altering way.

In the very human way that happens when too many things pile up at once.

I was working on the first mailing for Letters from The Evergreen Table, running back and forth to the post office, trying to get dinner into the slow cooker, dealing with a printer jam, running out of paper, and realizing the postage for something I thought would cost a stamp might actually cost almost as much as the entire monthly subscription.

And suddenly all of the excitement I had been feeling about these letters collided with overwhelm.

I thought:

What am I doing?

Why am I putting this much of my heart and art into something if I’m going to lose money on it?

There was vulnerability underneath it too. These letters are personal. They hold my paintings, my writing, my poetry, my reflections.

They are something I feel deeply called to make.

And when we create something new and put it into the world, there is always a little tenderness in that.

Eventually, I cried. And afterward, I felt better.

Not because everything had been solved, but because I had finally given myself space to feel what was actually there.

Later that night, I checked in with myself using an Emotion Code chart, something I’ve used from time to time to help name what I’m feeling.

The emotion I landed on was:

Effort unreceived.

And that hit me immediately.

I know how to give. I’m very good at giving. But receiving? That is something I am still learning.

Receiving support. Receiving love. Receiving money. Receiving appreciation. Receiving the possibility that something I create can be met, enjoyed, valued, and held by someone else.

There was something old in me that was afraid all of this effort would go out into the world and not be received. So I let myself feel that too.

No shame. No guilt. No telling myself to get over it.

Just compassion. And release.

When something challenges us, we don’t have to immediately fix it away. We don’t have to push it down. We don’t have to make ourselves wrong for feeling overwhelmed.

We can feel it. We can listen to what it is showing us.

And then we can keep going.

For me, the postage problem became something to figure out. The broken oven became an opportunity to find one that was better suited for bread.

The overwhelm became a reminder that I needed space. And the freak-out became information.

This morning I’m sitting outside looking into the forest. There is mist between the trees. The crickets are still going. There is almost no breeze. Everything is quiet.

And it reminds me…

Beneath it all is stillness.

Beneath the emotions.Beneath the rushing.Beneath the errands and the work and the things we’re trying to make happen.Beneath everything we’ve been carrying.

There is a quieter place within us.

A place that knows.

That is really what A Life That Lets Me Breathe means to me. Not a life without challenge. A life where I can come back to myself in the middle of it.

Where I can breathe again. Where I can hear what I know beneath all the noise.

And maybe this is where Dolly Parton comes in.

One of the things I have always loved about Dolly is that she took up space. She shared her voice. Her art. Her color. Her joy. Her light.

She kept becoming. She didn’t seem to need one fixed identity to tell her who she was allowed to be. And I think there is something in that for all of us.

We are not here to keep ourselves small. We are here to become more fully who we are.

To follow what feels true. To express what wants to move through us. To wear the color. To make the art. To sing the song. To try the thing.

To keep going, even when it gets messy. So that is what I am practicing. Receiving. Creating. Taking up a little more space.

Following my inner knowing even when I don’t know the outcome. And remembering that even in the middle of a freak-out, beneath it all, there is stillness.

There is breath. There is a part of me that knows the way. And there is a part of you that knows too.

With love,Shannon

TheEvergreenTable.LOVE | @shannonkinneyduh

This morning, the cicadas are loud.

They are singing outside as I record this week’s episode of A Life That Lets Me Breathe - that unmistakable sound of late summer here in the Midwest.

I could go inside and find somewhere quieter. But I don’t want to.

There is something I love about letting these conversations hold the sounds of the season we’re actually living in. The birds. The wind. The cicadas. The imperfect, ordinary life happening around us while we sit together and talk about what it means to be human.

I’ve been noticing how much is changing. Not only in my own life. Almost every conversation I have seems to circle back to the same thing:

Something is ending.Something is beginning.And we aren’t entirely sure what comes next.

For some, it’s a relationship. For others, a job. A role. An identity. A way of living that once felt tolerable, but suddenly doesn’t anymore.

Some people are choosing the change.

I’m done with this.I can’t carry this anymore.This isn’t mine.

Others feel as though life is making the choice for them.

And then there are those who can’t even name what is changing yet. They simply feel it.

A restlessness. An anticipation. A strange knowing that something is coming.

Maybe you feel it, too.

Sometimes we change before our lives do.

I think one of the most disorienting parts of transformation is that the change often begins inside of us long before there is evidence of it outside of us.

Something shifts. We begin wanting different things.

What once felt normal starts feeling uncomfortable. What we once tolerated becomes intolerable. What once seemed impossible begins whispering, maybe.

And yet, when we look around, our lives may still look mostly the same.

That space can be incredibly unsettling. Our minds want to understand.

Where is this going? What am I supposed to do? How will this work? Am I making a terrible mistake?

We want the map before we take the first step. But perhaps some seasons aren’t asking us for a map. Perhaps they are asking us for self-trust. To listen. To notice what lights us up and what drains the life from us. To recognize what we can no longer pretend not to know.

And then to trust that the next step will reveal itself when we need it.

What becomes unbearable when we love ourselves more?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately:

Sometimes the thing that changed isn’t the job. Or the relationship. Or the circumstance. We changed.

Something we could tolerate for years suddenly becomes unbearable because we have grown in our capacity to love ourselves.

And perhaps that discomfort isn’t evidence that something has gone wrong.

Perhaps it is contrast.

It shows us where we have abandoned ourselves. Where we have made ourselves smaller. Where we have stayed because staying was familiar. Where an old role, expectation or identity no longer belongs to the person we are becoming.

The things that once taught us how to love ourselves may eventually have to fall away because we learned.

And that doesn’t always mean leaving everything behind.

Sometimes a relationship changes with us. Sometimes a job becomes something different. Sometimes an old dream transforms into a new one.

And sometimes, yes, we realize something has reached its ending.

We don’t always know which it will be while we’re standing in the middle of it. That is where trust comes in. Learning to live without the straight line.

I don’t have answers for this season. I’m living it, too. I’m letting what makes me feel alive guide me. I’m practicing staying in the moment instead of demanding that I know what happens five steps from now.

I’m learning that uncertainty doesn’t always mean I’m lost.

Sometimes uncertainty simply means I have left the old path, and the new one hasn’t appeared yet.

And maybe we’re allowed to stand there for a while. At the edge of the forest. Listening.

This morning, as I was thinking about all of this, I opened a voice note and began speaking.

I wasn’t trying to write anything. But when I finished, I realized a poem had arrived.

So I’ll leave it here for you, too.

The Wild Within

Sometimes what you need mostis not more movement.

Not force.Not the right answers.Not making sense of it all.

Sometimesyou don’t want to walkthe straight line -

linear,certain,understandable,predictable,sure.

Sometimes what you long for mostis a new rhythm.

To step outside of time.To flow.

A time to honor the uncertainty.To throw caution to the wind.To be brave.

To take a new path.To get off the path altogether.

To see what waitsbeyond the edge of the forest.

To shine brighter.Expand wider.Allow your heart to becomefuller,freer,more alive.

There is a callto return to the wild within you.

The wild that knows the next step.The wild that has faithand trusts -

the process,the moment,your own creative energy.

The fire.The power.The wildnessthat knows where it wantsto take you next.

Now is not the timeto fear the dark.

Not the timeto run from the shadowor hide from change.

But to walk toward it.

To stand taller within it.

And to remember -

your ancestors,your angels and guides,Mother Earth herself,and all of the stars

are holding you,guiding you,cheering you on -

one beautiful,messy,imperfect,uncertain,wild step

at a time.

Maybe you don’t need to know where the path leads today. Maybe you only need enough courage for the step that is here now.

And then another.

And another.

Until one day you look around and realize that the life outside of you has finally begun to resemble the life that was quietly taking shape within you all along.

Keep taking good care of you, my friend.

I’ll be over here doing the same.

With love,Shannon

Come gather. 🌿

The Evergreen Table is a place for bread, blooms, letters, stories, poetry and the small things that bring us back to wonder.

If you’re near Kansas City, you can join me for sourdough focaccia, seasonal bread and blooms. And wherever you live, you can join Letters from the Evergreen Table - a monthly gathering through the mail filled with handwritten letters, stories, poems, creative inspiration and little bits of everyday magic.

I would love to meet you there!

There are seasons when life asks us to do more. And then there are seasons when life quietly asks us to pause, slow down, and come home to ourselves.

This summer has been one of those seasons for me.

I’ve spent more time in the garden than at my computer. I’ve baked bread instead of chasing ideas. I’ve painted, listened to the birds, watched flowers bloom, and tried to become a little more present to the life that was already unfolding around me.

Something unexpected happened.

The quieter I became, the more alive I felt.

Not because everything was suddenly easy. This has actually been one of the messiest seasons I’ve walked through.

But I slowly realized how much energy I’d been giving away - to worrying, fixing, waiting, explaining, and trying to control things that were never mine to carry.

As that energy returned, something beautiful began to grow.

Not just bread. Not just flowers. Not just art. A new way of living.

This week’s A Life That Lets Me Breath Podcast is about that journey.

It’s about reclaiming our energy, remembering our creative nature, and trusting the quiet invitations that keep returning to us.

It’s also the first time I’m sharing the story behind something very dear to my heart…

The Evergreen Table.

The Evergreen Table wasn’t built from a business plan. It grew from a life that finally had room to breathe.

People have asked if it’s a bread business. An art project. A flower stand. A writing practice.

The answer is yes. AND…it’s so much more.

It’s an invitation to gather around what nourishes us.

I hope this conversation feels like sitting together over warm bread and tea, reminding one another that it’s never too late to return to what gives us life.

I’d love to hear what has been quietly calling you lately.

What’s one small thing that makes you feel most like yourself?

Email me and let me know - I truly enjoy hearing your stories. [email protected].

Also, I’d love to invite you a little deeper into this growing community.

Letters from The Evergreen Table is my monthly snail mail club - a handcrafted letter filled with stories, original watercolor, seasonal recipes, creative invitations, reflections from the garden, and little fun surprises created to invite you to slow down, spark your creativity, and gather around what truly nourishes you.

In a world that moves so quickly, these letters are my way of bringing a little beauty, wonder, playfulness, and presence right to your mailbox.

If that sounds like something your heart has been longing for, I’d love to welcome you! Come gather with me and I’ll see you this month in your mailbox. :)

You can learn more here: Our Letters Snail Mail Club.

Keep taking good care of YOU.

With gratitude,

ShannonTheEvergreenTable.LOVE | @shannonkinneyduh

Hello, friend.

This morning I wandered through my garden with my phone in one hand and absolutely no plan for what I was going to say.

The birds were singing. The cicadas were buzzing. A warm Kansas breeze moved through the flowers, and I simply started talking.

I’ve noticed something changing in me lately. (Do you feel yourself changing, too?)

For much of my life, I wanted certainty. I wanted the five-year plan, the map, the reassurance that if I worked hard enough and made all the “right” choices, life would unfold exactly as I imagined.

But this season has been teaching me something entirely different.

It’s teaching me that life feels less like following a carefully choreographed routine…

…and much more like an improv dance.

Every morning I step outside, and the garden reminds me of this. The flowers don’t bloom all at once. The tomatoes aren’t in a hurry. The herbs grow in their own rhythm.

Even the sourdough starter sitting on my kitchen counter has become an unexpected teacher. It asks me to slow down, to pay attention, to trust a process I can’t rush.

None of these things seem worried about tomorrow. They’re simply becoming who they were created to be.

I’m wondering what would happen if we gave ourselves permission to do the same.

One of the ideas that kept returning as I recorded this week’s podcast was the space between the exhale and the inhale.

That tiny pause.

The moment that can feel uncomfortable because nothing seems to be happening. So much of life lives there. Between who we’ve been and who we’re becoming.

Between certainty and possibility. Between letting go…and receiving what’s next.

I think we’ve been taught to rush through those spaces. To fill them. To fix them. To plan our way around them.

But maybe those pauses aren’t empty after all.

Maybe they’re where our nervous system remembers that we’re safe. Maybe they’re where our hearts become loud enough to hear.

This week, I’ve been practicing something simple. When I notice myself wanting all the answers, I take one slow breath. I pause just a little longer before the next inhale. And I remember that the next breath always comes.

Maybe that’s what trust feels like.

Not knowing exactly where we’re going…but believing we don’t have to walk there alone.

🎧 This Week’s Podcast

In this week’s episode of A Life That Lets Me Breathe, I’m sharing a conversation from my garden about urgency, uncertainty, wonder, and why I think life may be more like an improv dance than a perfectly planned performance.

If you’ve been navigating change, letting go of an old version of yourself, or simply longing to breathe a little deeper, I hope you’ll come walk beside me for a while.

What’s Blooming

This week, I’m smiling every time I step outside. The zinnias are in full bloom, my basil is thriving, and every morning brings a new surprise. I have so much to learn! The garden keeps reminding me that growth isn’t linear - it unfolds in its own beautiful timing.

What’s Baking

The kitchen has become its own little classroom. Sourdough focaccia has completely captured my heart, and I’m preparing for my first larger baking week. Every loaf feels like another lesson in patience, creativity, and trust. I can’t wait to share more from this journey with you.

This Week’s Invitation

Before you move on with your day…

Pause.

Take one slow breath.

Notice the space before the next inhale.

Can you soften there? Can you trust that the next breath will come?

And then ask yourself:

What would change if I danced with life instead of trying to control it?

Thank you for being here.Thank you for walking beside me. I’m so grateful we’re remembering together!

With love,

Shannon | A Free Spirit Life | TheEvergreenForest.Love | @shannonkinneyduh

In this episode, I share what I’ve been moving through lately - a season of pruning. A quiet inner shedding of what no longer feels aligned so that something more true can emerge.

We explore what it means to return to your authentic self beneath conditioning, perfectionism, and busyness - and how creating space, slowing down, and allowing ourselves to feel is what reconnects us to our creativity and inner truth.

I also share a personal story of singing in a concert for the first time since eighth grade, and how that moment brought me back into the experience of shared voice, belonging, and creative aliveness.

This is a conversation about remembering, beginning again, and choosing imperfection as a path back to life.

In This Episode:

* The season of pruning and inner alignment

* Why space is necessary to hear your soul

* How busyness disconnects us from ourselves

* Emotional release and nervous system softening

* Perfectionism as protection, not truth

* Reclaiming creativity through imperfection

* Singing in community and the experience of shared voice

* Learning new things as a path back to aliveness

* Choosing messy beginnings over waiting to be ready

Key Themes:

* Authentic self remembrance

* Creativity as life force

* Nervous system and slowing down

* Community and shared expression

* Courage to begin again

Reflection Questions:

* Where am I pruning in my life right now?

* What parts of me come forward when I slow down?

* Where has perfectionism kept me from starting?

* What is one thing I could begin imperfectly this week?

If this resonates, I’d love to stay connected with you through my writing and upcoming gatherings.

You can find me on Substack and through my website, where I’m slowly creating spaces for creativity, connection, and remembering together.

Thank you for listening and thank you for being you.

With love,

Shannon

ShannonKinneyDuh.com | A Life That Lets Me Breathe

A new friend came to my home this week. As we walked around the yard, she kept pointing out things she loved.

The trees. The charm. The little details I hardly notice anymore.

The funny thing about living somewhere for a long time is that you stop seeing it. What once felt special becomes familiar. What once felt magical becomes ordinary.

And as she spoke, something shifted in me. I began seeing my home through her eyes.

Not through the lens of what needs fixing.Not through the lens of what might come next.Not through the lens of comparison.

But through appreciation.

And it made me wonder:

How often do we stop seeing the beauty that’s already here simply because we’ve been looking at it from the same angle for too long?

Lately I’ve been paying attention to the subtle ways scarcity still shows up in my life. Not necessarily around money. But in the feeling that something needs to be different before I can fully relax.

Before I can fully appreciate what’s here. Before I can feel complete.

Yet sitting with this experience, I realized something. The beauty hadn’t disappeared. I had simply stopped noticing it. And perhaps that happens in more places than we realize.

Our homes. Our relationships. Our gifts. Our lives.

Sometimes what we need isn’t a new life. Sometimes we need a fresh pair of eyes.

One of the phrases that has been following me lately arrived while I was sitting on my red bench before a morning walk:

“Gratitude is a receptor.”

I didn’t fully understand it at first. But the more I sat with it, the more I felt it. When gratitude moves beyond a thought and becomes a feeling in the body, something opens.

The heart softens. The nervous system relaxes. The body begins to feel safe. And from that place, we become available to receive.

New ideas. New possibilities. New perspectives. New moments of joy. Not because life suddenly changes. But because we become present enough to notice what is already here.

That is what this week’s podcast episode explores.

A simple story. A perspective shift.

And a reminder that perhaps there is more beauty, abundance, and possibility surrounding us than we’ve been able to see.

Thank you for walking alongside me. And today, I leave you with a question:

What in your life might look different if you viewed it through fresh eyes?

With love,

Shannon

ShannonKinneyDuh.com

After a long pause, I’m returning to the microphone in a completely different way.

Not with a polished show.Not with a long list of interviews.Not with a strategy.

But with a simple question:

What happens when we step away from the noise long enough to hear ourselves again?

In this new episode of A Life That Lets Me Breathe, I share why I’ve retired my former podcast, A Free Spirit Life, and what is calling me forward now.

This conversation explores:

• Why I’ve been taking time away to reset and reconnect with myself• The difference between seeking freedom and creating a life that lets you breathe• Simplicity as a spiritual practice• Listening beneath the conditioning, expectations, and noise• Creativity, nature, wonder, and authentic living• Why this podcast will be recorded in real life - in gardens, on walks, beneath trees, and in ordinary moments of noticing

This isn’t a show about having all the answers.

It’s an audio field journal.

A place to pause.A place to breathe.A place to remember.

Thank you for being here.

Until next time, may you notice something beautiful around you, trust your own rhythm, and leave a little more room for your life to breathe.

With love,

Shannon

ShannonKinneyDuh.com | A Life That Lets Me Breathe

Artist • Writer • Storyteller • Creative + Intuitive Mentor

Hi friend!

This summer changed me.

Not through striving—but by pausing. By letting go of urgency, scarcity, and the push to prove. I rooted deeply into the truth: I am abundance. And from that place, everything shifted.

In this new podcast episode, I share:

* My personal turning point with money and enoughness

* The lessons from a sacred summer of slowing down

* The power of simple pleasures, natural rhythm, and coherence

* What true prosperity feels like when you’re living in alignment

And I introduce three new offerings born from this new field of abundance—Soul Design for Aligned Wealth Sessions, Harmonic Tuning, and The Harmonic Current—for those ready to live and create from their soul’s true blueprint.

If this speaks to you, you can book your session or simply reply and say hello.

I’d love to walk this harmonic path together. And thanks for listening! 🌸

With love,

Shannon

A Free Spirit Life | ShannonKinneyDuh.com @afreespiritlife

Something is shifting. Quietly, deeply, and with a rhythm I can finally hear.

In this new episode of A Free Spirit Life, I’m opening up about the evolution I’ve been moving through — a tender but powerful journey from over-efforting to trust, from hustle to harmony.

For years, I’ve taught, coached, healed, created. But something recently cracked open. In the stillness of a Colorado summer reset — under the ponderosa pines and wide mountain sky — I began to feel a deeper alignment with my own rhythm. And with that, a clear message:

Let it come. Let it unfold. Let it be easier.

This episode weaves my story — the threads of yoga, voice, nature, healing, and soul work — into a new song. A quieter, deeper one. I share how I’m stepping into a new season of my work, my creativity, and my offerings… and how, maybe, you are too.

🎧 Listen now and breathe with me.

To learn more about my new Frequency Tuning Sessions, visit here. To purchase a soul deck with my new pay-what-you-want-gift, visit here.

Thanks for listening and thanks for being you!

With rhythm and love,

Shannon

A Free Spirit Life | ShannonKinneyDuh.com @afreespiritlife

Hello, friend!

I’m thrilled to be sharing this new podcast episode with you. If you’ve been following my journey, you know I’ve been exploring different ways to connect—through YouTube, podcasting, and writing—but there’s something about the intimacy of audio that always calls me back home. So here I am, back on the audio version of my podcast, diving deep into inspiration, authenticity, and the magic of trusting our creative path together.

Today, I pulled a card from my Your True Nature affirmation deck, and its message couldn’t be more aligned with the theme of this episode:

I am like the sun, illuminating my own path and inspiring others to express their authentic brilliance.

We’re exploring the element of fire—the spark of creativity, personal power, and courage. I open up about my own experience of launching my affirmation deck, the waves of self-doubt that arose, and the synchronicities that reminded me to stand in my light. (Here’s a short Youtube video I created about my own vulnerability launching this project.)

Inside this episode:

✨ Why I’m shifting back to audio podcasting. ✨ The affirmation that guided today’s reflections. ✨ How nature co-creates with us and fuels inspiration. ✨ Embracing vulnerability as part of the creative process. ✨ A powerful synchronicity that reminded me to trust my path.

I hope this episode sparks something within you—a reminder that your fire, your creativity, and your brilliance are needed in the world. Let’s keep walking this path together!

Ways to Connect & Go Deeper:🌿 Subscribe to A Free Spirit Life on your favorite podcast platform.🌿 Order your Your True Nature affirmation deck.🌿 Join me on YouTube for more creative explorations. (Would you rather watch a video of this podcast episode? Watch here.🌿 Share your reflections in the comments or email me! I’d love to hear from you!

Thank you for being here.

Keep shining, keep trusting, and keep embracing your true nature. ✨🔥

With love,

Shannon

A Free Spirit Life | ShannonKinneyDuh.com Shannon Kinney-Düh

Here’s what others are saying about my new, Your True Nature affirmation deck:

“Shannon, your affirmation deck arrived yesterday and it is absolutely beautiful. The booklet and cards exude the love you put into this project and you should be so proud of the outcome! I want to tell you how much I love the little wooden stand that came with your deck. I have been pulling my card before bed and putting it on my stand on my side table. It’s the first thing I see when I wake up and reminds me to think of the message of the day.”

“Shannon, this deck is SO beautiful! I love it so much - it’s very special. I haven’t been pulling cards lately or felt very connected to my spirituality, so this seems like the perfect timing to receive it. I really love the display and card holder. Thank you so much!”

“Shannon, these cards are so incredibly beautiful and powerful! This is the card I pulled this morning. You are such a gift.”