My Anywhere But Here Blog

🌿 When We Step Away: The Quiet Strength of Hiatus and Hibernation

There are seasons in life

when stepping forward

is not the bravest thing we can do.

Sometimes…

the bravest thing

is to step back.

Not in defeat.

Not in giving up.

But in listening.

Because there is a difference

between quitting

and pausing with intention.

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We live in a world

that quietly celebrates motion.

Keep going.

Keep producing.

Keep showing up.

Keep pushing through.

And while there is value in perseverance,

there is also wisdom in knowing

when our spirit is asking

for something else entirely.

For stillness.

For space.

For restoration.

⸻

A hiatus is not an ending.

It is a boundary

drawn with care.

A gentle decision that says:

I will return…

but not before I remember

what it feels like

to be whole again.

It gives us permission

to step out of the noise

without losing ourselves in it.

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And then there is hibernation.

A deeper kind of rest.

The kind that doesn’t ask

to be understood

by anyone watching from the outside.

Because hibernation

is not meant to be seen.

It is inward.

Quiet.

Often invisible.

But necessary.

Just as the earth rests

before it blooms again,

so do we.

⸻

There are parts of us

that cannot heal

while constantly being exposed.

There are thoughts

that need silence

before they can make sense.

There are wounds

that require time

without interruption.

And there is a soul

that sometimes whispers:

“Come away for a while.”

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This kind of stepping back

can feel uncomfortable.

Even unfamiliar.

We may wonder

if we are falling behind…

if we are missing something…

if we are losing momentum.

But what if we are not losing anything at all?

What if, instead,

we are gaining ourselves back?

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Because the truth is—

We were never meant

to live every season

at the same pace.

Some seasons are meant for growing.

Others for harvesting.

And some…

are meant simply

for resting beneath the surface

where no one else can see.

⸻

A hiatus allows us to breathe again.

A hibernation allows us to heal.

And both

are acts of quiet wisdom.

Not weakness.

Not withdrawal.

But care.

⸻

So if you find yourself

pulling back a little…

needing less noise…

craving more stillness…

You are not doing life wrong.

You are listening.

And that kind of listening

is sacred.

⸻

Because even the strongest hearts

need time to rest

before they rise again.

⸻

In My Anywhere But Here, we hold both—

The courage to keep going

and the wisdom to step away

when our soul asks for rest.

⸻

🖊️ Susan Thomas

⸻

💌 A Letter to My Subscribers and Friends

My subscribers and friends,

I wanted to take a moment to share something with you honestly.

At the suggestion of my family, I am taking a break from this blog.

They expressed that it may not have been as productive or as motivational for others as I had hoped.

I have always tried to be truthful in my writing, so I wanted to share that with you just as it was said.

But in truth…

my heart feels heavy at the thought of stepping away.

Writing has always been cathartic for me—

a place of healing,

and a way of making sense of the heartbeat of the world around me.

I have also always felt that God was guiding me through these words.

And now, I find myself quietly wondering

if I heard His calling the way I was meant to.

Maybe I am being led in a different direction.

Maybe I am meant to write a second book—

one that speaks more deeply about how to persevere

when God tests us beyond what we think we can endure.

Maybe finding peace means making changes

that are necessary for me,

even if they are not meant for everyone else.

Maybe I need to take a step back,

take some deep breaths,

and gently rearrange what My Anywhere But Here is meant to be.

And maybe, in doing so,

healing will begin to take place again.

The exhaustion I feel…

perhaps it simply needs rest—

like a kind of hibernation.

And in that rest,

there may come a time

when I feel ready to open this space again.

But for now…

my winter has come,

and I feel it is time for me to step away

and quietly hibernate.

If you feel led,

I would deeply appreciate your prayers

during this time of restoration.

With sincerity and gratitude,