Excerpt 1: Clearing The Ground

An insight into Chapter 4 - Clearing The Ground

Oct 18, 2025

Over the next three Saturdays, I’ll be sharing an excerpt from each of the three sections of my first book The Radical Recall to Rest. We start with SPACE today and a glimpse of Chapter 4 – Clearing The Ground.

The garden at the house I grew up in was boxed in by hedges and old brick walls – the kind that held the warmth of the sun long after it had dipped below the rooftops. In the long stretch of the summer holidays, when the days felt endless and the air smelled of cut grass, Mum and Dad were often out there, tools in hand.

The garden was always a work in progress, never quite finished, always being shaped. But it wasn’t just work. They loved that space. They enjoyed the fruit of their labour, too. Friends would come round for BBQs, the patio full of chatter and smoky laughter, the smell of burgers and charcoal drifting into the evening air. It was a space that was tended and shared. A space to take pride in. A space to breathe.

Don’t even get me started on the grass, though. In the height of summer, mowing it was practically a part-time job – almost twice a week, like clockwork. It was relentless.

One summer, I decided I wanted to build something of my own – a raised bed, tucked away at the side of the garden near the hedge. A space to grow things. Something neat. Organised. Mine. My brother helped me build it, but only after the hard part was done. Because before I could place a single plank, before I could picture flowers or vegetables, I had to deal with what was already there. I told my parents it wouldn’t take me the day.

Two days later, I was still out there, sunburnt and mildly traumatised, staring at two crater-sized holes where root balls had once lived. I had to fill them in before I could even start building the bed. All the while, my brother conveniently disappeared – nowhere to be found during the heavy lifting, but ready with a drill once the soil was level.

And honestly, there’s a lesson in that.

You can’t grow something new without dealing with what came before. You can’t build without first making space. And clearing the ground, whether in a garden or in your life, can’t be rushed. It takes longer than you think. It’s heavier than you expect. It’s not the shiny bit, but it’s the bit that matters.

Sometimes, we talk about rest like it’s just something we add in – a new practice, a new rhythm, a better way to be productive. But I think, more often than not, rest begins with release. With honest, slow, deliberate work. With pulling things up by the roots. With naming what needs to go.

And making space always starts here: clearing the ground.

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Clearing the ground means naming that noise. And daring to believe that silence, the kind that opens us to God, might just be where rest begins again. There’s a cost to constant input and most of us are paying it without even realising.

We live in a world where silence is almost impossible to come by. There’s always something playing in the background. A podcast while we drive. An audiobook while we walk. A playlist for every mood. A reel for every moment. Even the things that are meant to inspire us can start to overwhelm if we never give them space to settle.

And it’s not that these things are bad. So much of it is genuinely good. Thoughtful. Encouraging. Helpful. But when every quiet moment is filled with someone else’s voice, it becomes harder to hear our own – let alone God’s.

We tell ourselves we’re learning. Growing. Making the most of every moment. And sometimes we are. But other times, we’re just drowning out the stillness. We’ve forgotten how to be alone with our thoughts. How to sit with a question before rushing to find an answer. How to be in the presence of God without a soundtrack playing behind it. This isn’t about shame. It’s about noticing.

Because full doesn’t always mean fed.

You can have a head full of wisdom and a heart that still feels hollow. You can know all the right language and still not hear God’s whisper. You can listen to hours of teaching, stories, reflections and still not leave space for any of it to take root.

Clearing the ground means being honest about what we’re consuming. Not because it’s wrong, but because it might be too much. Even good things, when they’re constant, can become clutter. What if the voice we’re longing to hear isn’t absent, just crowded out? What if the clarity we’re waiting for has been quietly waiting too, just beneath the surface, under all the noise? Sometimes the most nourishing thing we can do is pause. Not to add something new. But to hear what’s already there.

There’s more to this chapter, of course – more story, more honesty, more space to grow. But this is just a glimpse of the first section of The Radical Recall to Rest – SPACE – where the journey begins. A journey of learning to slow down long enough to notice what’s still alive underneath all the hurry.

If any of this resonates, I’d love to invite you to go a little deeper. The Radical Recall to Rest is available for pre-order until 3rd November, and every copy will be signed and sent by me. It’s more than a book – it’s a conversation I’d love you to be part of.

That’s what A Curious Follower is, too. A space for those who want to live with more curiosity, attentiveness, and wonder. For those tired of the noise but still hungry for more.

Josh| A Curious Follower

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