Trust the Unfolding 🔮

On the 8th of June 2026, somewhere between Perth and Paris, we looked through the plane window knowing we were leaving Australia behind, at least for a while. It finally sank in that we weren’t simply travelling back to France like we’ve done in past years, rushing from one place to another, squeezing in seven hours of remote work while trying to enjoy precious time with loved ones. This time, we had stepped into a different rhythm — one where we measure our days by conversations, sunsets, gardens visited, learned skills, shared meals and the people we meet.

Learning Through Doing: Our First WWOOF Experience

We didn’t waste much time before starting our first farm experience. WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) connects people curious about organic agriculture with organic farms around the world. In exchange for our help, we receive knowledge, experience, shared meals and a place to sleep.

After years of reading books, listening to podcasts and watching videos about agroecology, we were finally excited to move from theory into practice.

Our first stop was at Les Racines d’Or, a three-hectare organic market garden created in 2022 by Jean-Sébastien, after a previous career as a filmmaker and photographer. We spent three mornings there helping during the busy summer season: removing tomato leaves affected by mildew, pruning the plants, preparing supports, sowing more than 2,000 seeds for future harvests, planting marigolds between tomato plants to attract beneficial insects, and preparing the farm stand where customers arrived to fill their baskets with fresh local produce.

None of these tasks were revolutionary. And yet, there was something deeply satisfying about finally experiencing what we had only seen from a distance. There is a big difference between knowing how something works intellectually and feeling it in your body: the concentration required to prune a plant without damaging it, the patience needed to sow tiny seeds one by one, the physical effort of working outside. At the end of each day, we felt content and carried this tiredness that comes from contributing to something alive. You can find more details on this experience in our article Les Racines d’Or, East Countryside, and photos on our Instagram post.

Our second farm in June was a full day at La Ferme de Gisy on the outskirts of Paris. Reaching the farm by public transport in less than an hour from the city centre felt almost surreal. One moment we were surrounded by concrete, traffic and heat; the next we were harvesting vegetables in a thriving three-hectare organic market garden buzzing with birds, insects and life. Created by a former engineer and a teacher who chose to leave successful careers after several years of questioning what truly mattered to them, the farm now produces fresh organic vegetables for more than a hundred local families, schools and nearby shops. It is a beautiful example of how cities can actively support local food production by protecting agricultural land and integrating farms into long-term urban planning. After a day spent harvesting, weeding and pruning tomatoes alongside a passionate and organised team, we left inspired not only by the farm itself, but also by what it represented: the possibility of changing direction, building something meaningful with others, and proving that productive, economically viable organic farming still has a place at the edge of our largest cities. More details on this experience in our article Gisy Farm, Abundance at the Gates of Paris, and photos on our Instagram post.

The Invisible Skills of Growing Food

Those experiences reminded us that farming is not only about technical knowledge. It is about patience, observation and trust.

Trust in the weather, which can change everything within hours. Trust in the soil. Trust in seeds that may or may not become the harvest you hoped for. Trust that, despite all your efforts, some things will always remain beyond your control.

We started to understand the emotional weight carried by small-scale farmers, who invest months of work without certainty that their harvest will survive.

We also noticed how much thought goes into making a farm sustainable not only ecologically, but also physically. A table at the right height, a sink placed in the right location, tools carefully stored at the end of the season. All these details may seem insignificant, but they protect the body, reduce stress and allow people to keep doing this work over many years.

Brittany: Abundance Around the Table

After a week in the East of France, we travelled West to Brittany to help Guillaume’s brother and his partner prepare the feast for their 35th birthday celebration.

Locquirec has slowly become a familiar place for us since 2022. Every visit seems to welcome us with sunshine (apparently a rare gift in Brittany!), turquoise beaches, coastal walks, green forests covered with ferns, colourful hydrangeas and old stone houses.

It is the kind of place where we can easily imagine ourselves living one day, at least during the summer months. Winter, with its wind, rain and grey skies, might require a little more adaptation after years of Sydney sunshine. That week gave both of us a chance to share our gifts. Guillaume baked delicious cookies and custard tarts, called flan pâtissier, and could easily open a shop with 80+ positive reviews. Mylene assisted the baking and helped with vegetarian recipes, and we both ran workshops during the weekend: a sweaty Midnight Runners run for Guillaume and a calm meditation and breathing circle for Mylene.

The birthday weekend became a beautiful gathering of creative people. Everyone brought something — music, workshops, books, conversations and energy — creating an example of what human abundance is when it’s given a space to emerge.

During this week, we also discovered the richness of local food systems. We found organic vegetables from a local grower, eggs and apple juice from a small orchard created after a WWOOF experience in New Zealand, local cider and bread. The taste of organic local products in France is unbeatable, especially the tomatoes and strawberries (and the cheese and cider, of course)!

When Climate Change Becomes Personal

Then came Paris. Thirty-nine degrees at 9 pm.

For several days, the city became a physical reminder of the world we are entering. The heat was trapped between buildings, apartments became impossible to cool, and people were searching for places to breathe. The intensity of noise, movement and crowds was amplified by extreme temperatures.

Climate change is no longer something we study through reports, graphs or professional conversations. It was something we felt on our skin and in our heart as we thought about all the other precious creatures that couldn’t find refuge in an air-conditioned building.

Yet even there, beauty continued to appear to remind us that life is a gift to appreciate fully.

Those gifts included the ice cream shared with friends while playing Undercover, a concert in Rouen, or attending a wild food foraging workshop in the Bois de Vincennes with Totem Sauvage. Watching wild plants through a magnifying glass opened an entire hidden universe and reminded us how much knowledge exists around us when we slow down enough to pay attention.

The People Showing Us What Is Possible

This first month of exploration began to show us people who had chosen a different path.

Jean-Sébastien, who moved from filmmaking to farming. Nicolas, who stopped working on the Ariane 5 rocket to grow organic food for the city. Adeline, who left marketing to teach people about wild plants. Maxime, who swapped sports coaching for coaching apple trees to grow beautiful fruit.

Different stories, but a common thread. At some point, they stopped asking only what was logical, safe or expected, and started listening to what felt alive for them. All those encounters and profiles are starting to give us permission to dream and explore different paths. Let’s see where it brings us!

“The mind cries out, explains, demonstrates, protests; but inside me a voice rises and shouts at it: ‘Be quiet, mind, let us hear the heart!’” — Nikos Kazantzakis

The Mana of June

This month, the mana of places appeared in many small details.

The first red tomatoes of the season. The endless palette of pink hydrangeas in Brittany. The rhythm of the tides. The conversations around market stalls. The return of life in cafés associatifs like Café Marylène, bringing people together in rural and urban neighbourhoods. The joy of seeing people outside in summer, talking, laughing, sharing music and simply being together.

We realised again that places have their own energy, their own stories and their own ways of teaching us how to live.

Seeds We Are Carrying Forward

• Growing food teaches patience, humility and trust.
• A regenerative life must also regenerate the humans living it.
• Local abundance already exists; we simply need to slow down enough to notice it.
• We do not need all the answers before taking the next step.

Thank you for being part of this journey. You can also explore our farm notes here.