For years, I thought success belonged to other people.
People with confidence. People with plans. People who knew where they were heading.
As someone who has spent much of her life navigating mental illness, self-doubt and a complicated relationship with self-worth, success always seemed to come with a scorecard I wasn't convinced I'd ever pass.
But this year, after choosing Growth as my word, I found myself asking a different question.
What if success isn't something you achieve? What if it's something you slowly become?
In this deeply personal conversation, I invite Megan into the pages of my own diary as we explore the stories we tell ourselves about achievement, belonging, recovery and the quiet courage it takes to keep growing when life bends you in unexpected directions.
It all begins with a tree.
A tree that never grew straight.
A tree I realised I'd offered more compassion than I had ever offered myself.
Together, we unpack what nature has taught me about resilience, curiosity, connection and why perhaps the greatest measure of success isn't found in titles, money or recognition, but in becoming more deeply aligned with the person you already are.
If you've ever felt like you've fallen behind...
If you've ever measured yourself against someone else's timeline...
Or if you've ever wondered whether your life was supposed to look different...
I hope this conversation reminds you that forests don't grow in straight lines.
And maybe we aren't meant to either.
Ikigai is the Japanese belief that a meaningful life is found where the things we love, the things we are good at, the things the world needs and the ways we can contribute begin to meet. It's less about finding one perfect purpose and more about living a life that feels deeply aligned.
Here's my own Ikigai—not because it's the answer, but because I hope it encourages you to discover yours.
For years, I thought success came with a checklist. Confidence. Goals. Achievement. Certainty. But the harder I looked, the more I realised I was measuring myself against a definition that was never really mine. Before I could understand what success was, I first had to ask where my idea of it came from.
Choosing Growth as my word for the year unexpectedly led me somewhere I hadn't anticipated. The more I chased becoming a better version of myself, the more I wondered whether growth wasn't about becoming someone new or quietly finding my way back to the person I'd always been.
Sometimes the answers we're searching for aren't found in books, podcasts or even conversations. They're waiting quietly in places we've walked past a hundred times. Sitting beneath a twisted tree, I realised I'd spent years offering compassion to everything around me... except myself.
A Substack Article by A Life By Design
Thanks to Kate for the recommendation!
As a botanist and professor of plant ecology, Robin Wall Kimmerer has spent a career learning how to ask questions of nature using the tools of science. As a Potawatomi woman, she learned from elders, family, and history that the Potawatomi, as well as a majority of other cultures indigenous to this land, consider plants and animals to be our oldest teachers.
In Braiding Sweetgrass, Kimmerer brings these two lenses of knowing together to reveal what it means to see humans as "the younger brothers of creation". As she explores these themes, she circles toward a central argument: The awakening of a wider ecological consciousness requires the acknowledgement and celebration of our reciprocal relationship with the world. Once we begin to listen for the languages of other beings, we can begin to understand the innumerable life-giving gifts the world provides us and learn to offer our thanks, our care, and our own gifts in return.
When I started this podcast, I remember joking that maybe twelve people would listen.
Honestly, if that had happened, I think I still would have kept making it.
I never imagined that, a few years later, people from more than a dozen countries would be joining us each month. Not because we set out to build something big, but because together we've built something that feels incredibly special.
Every week you choose to spend an hour walking beside us. (And when I say an hour... I mean somewhere around it - I think Megan's given up on ever getting one that goes for 40 minutes)
Sometimes we laugh together. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes we wrestle with questions that don't have neat answers. Sometimes we simply sit in awe of the people who trust us with their stories.
You might think you're "just listening."
But you've been doing so much more than that.
You've helped create a community where people feel safe enough to tell the truth. Where scientists, authors, Elders, survivors, adventurers and everyday Australians have trusted us to carry their stories with care. Every time you've pressed play, shared an episode, left a review or recommended the podcast to a friend, you've quietly helped make that possible.
And somewhere along the way, without really noticing, you've done the same for me.
You've given me the courage to keep asking questions.
To keep growing.
To keep believing that these conversations matter.
Thank you for walking this path with me.
I can't wait to see where it leads next.
– Shannon