Day 24 - The Farmer's Market - When Spontaneity Breaks the Beautiful Plan

Day 24 found me in Costa Mesa after teaching a class on regret, heading to Room and Board for an exchange. I'm a person with a plan—spontaneity on the fly isn't exactly my forte. So when I pulled into the parking lot and saw signs for a farmer's market, my usual self would have been curious about those tents but would have found some reason not to explore. Need to get home faster, something to attend to, any excuse to stick to the schedule.

But this challenge has been teaching me to notice those moments where my "get things done/stay on task" self wants to override curiosity. So instead of driving past, I made myself walk over, excited to check off another nervous system challenge.

The first booth I encountered was Nonna Mercato from Long Beach—a bakery we absolutely love, and the place that had been willing to sell my son a sourdough starter when other bakeries wouldn't. I broke the ice by gushing about how much we love their bakery and left with two beautiful loaves of bread.

From there, the market became a treasure hunt. Carrots with their tops still attached—perfect for my homemade bone broth. Fresh white corn that practically glowed. Raspberries so sweet they felt like candy. Homemade pickled onions that I knew would elevate every meal for weeks.

And then I found it: the most incredible chipotle black bean hummus from Brothers Products in Garden Grove. Oh my goodness, this hummus has probably been the highlight of my year, given how discombobulated everything has felt lately. Food can be such a connector, such a comfort, and this discovery felt like a small miracle.

I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know each vendor, hearing their stories, feeling their passion for what they create. When I finally made it home, arms full of delightful treasures, my son's face lit up with the same foodie excitement I was feeling. There we were, celebrating my spontaneous detour, feasting on discoveries I never would have made if I'd stuck to my original plan.

The nervous system challenge here wasn't just about trying a new farmer's market—it was about allowing spontaneity to interrupt my carefully constructed schedule. It was about choosing curiosity over efficiency, connection over productivity.

There's something deeply nourishing about stepping into other people's routines at the market, becoming part of their Saturday rhythm instead of just rushing through my own agenda. The vendors were clearly in their element, sharing their passion with anyone willing to slow down and listen.

This experience reminded me that some of life's greatest gifts come when we're willing to let our plans be beautifully interrupted. When we allow our "get things done" self to take a hiatus and embrace the possibility that something wonderful might be waiting just a few steps away from our intended path.

Sometimes the most important expansion happens when we trade our tight grip on the schedule for open hands ready to receive whatever unexpected joy might be offered.