That Old Smokehouse · The Clarity Collective

That Old Smokehouse

When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time on my grandparents’ farm in West Tennessee. Behind the house stood a smokehouse. Originally built for preserving meat, but by the time my cousins and I came along, they’d become storage sheds.

To us, they were treasure rooms.

Lifting the heavy latch, we would step into that dim, dusty space. Cardboard boxes were stacked everywhere. Softened by humidity, edges collapsing, labels long gone, we’d open them one by one, hoping for something magical.

In reality, they held the things no one wanted to deal with. Not because they didn’t matter, but because they did. They were full of memories, decisions, and emotions that were easier to box up and shove into the shed than to sort through.

This week, as I’ve been exploring fear, how it shows up, how it hides, how it shapes me, I’ve been thinking about those smokehouses again.

Honestly, it’s been scary.

Not the dramatic kind of fear. The quiet kind. The kind that sits in the back of your mind in a box you taped shut years ago. The kind you forget about until you brush up against it and realize it’s still there, still heavy, still waiting.

But here’s what surprised me:

Alongside the fear, I found longing.

Longing for clarity.

Longing for freedom.

Longing for the version of myself I’ve been slowly becoming.

Longing for the space those old beliefs have been taking up.

It turns out longing is often what leads us back to the smokehouse door.

It’s the tug that says, “You’re ready to see what’s in here now.”

This week revealed perspectives and limiting beliefs I thought I’d outgrown. Turns out, I’d just stacked them neatly in the back and closed the door. But longing, steady and patient, nudged me to open the boxes anyway.

And here’s the truth:

Opening them doesn’t break us.

It frees us.

Every time we name a fear we’ve avoided or unpack a belief we’ve outgrown, we reclaim a little more space inside ourselves. A little more breath. A little more choice. A little more of the life we’ve been longing for.

What “smokehouse box” have you recently cracked open, or realized you’ve been avoiding?

And beneath that…

What longing might be calling you toward it?

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