Photo by cottonbro studio

I never thought emptying a compost toilet at a Vermont retreat would become one of my more entertaining metaphors and teaching moments. But sometimes the universe delivers its lessons in the most unexpected—and uncomfortable—packages.

The Setup: Rustic Retreats and Unexpected Responsibilities

When I signed up to host our NOURISH retreat at a barn-turned-yoga-center in Vermont, I expected some rusticness. What I didn’t expect was that my private room upgrade would come with a very specific end-of-weekend responsibility: emptying my own compost toilet.

My initial reaction? Pure resistance. As the retreat leader, I thought, “This isn’t fair. These mothers came here to rest, not to literally deal with their own waste.” But thanks to Margot, another retreat participant who faced the same situation, I quickly gained perspective. Her good humor and willingness to laugh about it helped me see the bigger picture and the entertaining metaphor hiding in this uncomfortable moment.

The Metaphor We Can’t Ignore

Here’s the thing about dealing with your own waste: it’s not comfortable. We’d much rather flush it away without seeing it, smelling it, or relating to it in any way. And isn’t that exactly how we approach our inner work?

We want to avoid our inner critic. We don’t want to look at our anxiety or our perfectionism. We’d rather not examine our strained relationships with our mothers or face the uncomfortable patterns we’re repeating in our own parenting. We want to flush it all down the metaphorical toilet without ever really seeing what’s there.

But that’s not how transformational inner work actually happens.

You Can’t Build Muscle Without Going to the Gym

The truth is simple but challenging: you can’t build the muscle if you don’t do the reps yourself. We’re all looking for shortcuts—and I appreciate efficiency as much as anyone—but there’s no way around actually doing the work.

When I carried that compost bucket to the humanure pile, I came face-to-face with something I’d created and now had to take responsibility for. It was humbling. It was uncomfortable. And it was necessary.

This is exactly what we’re all being called to do with our inner work.

The “Why Me?” Question

One of the most common refrains I hear from the women I work with—and have felt myself—is: “Why do I have to be the one to deal with this?”

Why do I have to do the inner work my mother didn’t do? Why do I have to examine my patterns when my husband isn’t showing up to do his own work? Why can’t someone else just take care of this for me?

We want to outsource our transformation. We want someone else to take out our metaphorical waste. But just like I couldn’t ask the retreat center owner to empty my personal compost bucket, we can’t ask someone else to do our inner work for us.

Seeing the Resistance as the Invitation

Rumi wrote, “The wound is where the light enters.” There’s also a similar quote about how the crack is where the light comes through. This wisdom invites us to completely reframe our relationship with discomfort.

What if the mess, the hard stuff, the conflict, the uncomfortable sensation, the pain—what if all of it is actually the teacher? What if our resistance is pointing us directly toward our growth?

When you’re able to see your struggles as opportunities rather than problems, something shifts. The panic attack, the triggered moment with your child, the pattern you can’t seem to break—these become doorways to deeper awareness, deeper transformation, and deeper healing, not just for you but for your entire family.

The Power of Community

Here’s what made the compost situation bearable: I wasn’t alone. Margot and I walked through it together, laughing and finding perspective in our shared experience. When I was deep in the shame of not having anticipated this situation, she gave me a different view.

This is what community does. It witnesses us in our mess and offers compassion.

It’s rarely effective or helpful to do inner work alone. You need someone—a therapist, a trusted friend, a community of other mothers doing the same work—to witness you, to offer perspective when you’re too close to see clearly, and to remind you that your struggles don’t make you broken.

The Transformation: From Waste to Nutrients

Here’s the final piece of this metaphor: the humanure pile isn’t just waste. It’s vital to the ecosystem of the farm. It becomes nutrients that help other things grow.

The retreat center where we stayed is self-sustaining. The food we ate was mostly grown on the farm. They work hard not to leave an imprint. And the compost system—including human waste—is part of that circle of life and growth.

Your inner work is the same. When you really see your wounds as places where light can enter, you realize that nothing is wasted. Your pain, your patterns, your struggles—they all become fuel. They become nutrients that help new things flourish in your life and in your family.

This is alchemy. This is transformation. This is reclamation in real time.

So What Are You Avoiding?

Let me ask you: What uncomfortable truth are you trying to flush away without facing? What part of yourself is driving the bus of your life that needs your attention? Your inner critic? Your doubt? Your fear? Your resentment or anger?

What are you wanting to outsource that actually isn’t serving you? What needs to be seen, related to, and met with curiosity and kindness?

And who can you bring into this process with you? Because while you can’t outsource the work itself, you absolutely shouldn’t do it alone.

The Invitation

I’m not suggesting you install a compost toilet (I’m certainly not planning to). But I am inviting you to consider what you’ve been avoiding—and to see that avoidance as an invitation rather than a failure.

The women at the retreat courageously looked at their hard stuff. They felt their anger, some screamed for the first time, and they got their hands dirty with the messy work of transformation. And something beautiful happened: they threw their old patterns into the metaphorical humanure pile and started creating space for something new to grow.

You can do this too. But first, you have to be willing to see what’s actually there—and to take responsibility for dealing with your own stuff.

Because that’s where the real transformation begins.

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Listen to the full episode for more retreat reflections and insights on doing the inner work that changes everything.