Turning the calendar to November last week, I took a deep breath, knowing full well what I'd see. It was, well...as I expected. A month in which I cannot fly - as I usually do - sans calendar. We've entered the busy days of the year - days full of rehearsals, holiday making, holiday parties, and all the regular stuff of our days. Homeschooling, farming, working, living. This week, in particular, is a full one. Full of goodness that we quite carefully chose and are grateful for, but oh-so full nonetheless.
I find myself, especially at times like these, committing mindfully to moving slowly through these days.
Yesterday, in the midst of dropping the boys to and fro, and bringing Adelaide here and there, and delivering this and that, and cooking and writing and photographing this, that and the other thing...I put my baby girl down for a nap, and realized that all was quiet for what I anticipated to be approximately fifteen minutes before the next thing needed to be done. Of course, there was laundry to catch up on, and dinner to get ahead of, and blog posts to write, and phone calls to make...and for a moment I thought about doing one of those things.
And then I reminded myself: Moving slowly. Breathing deeply. Being present. That is how I want these precious days of my life to be lived.
So I put the kettle on for tea. I brought my latest knitting project onto the front steps (but never actually knit anything). And there I sat, inhaling sunshine and fresh air. Breathing...alone....just like that.
Ten minutes later, the baby woke up, and it was time to pick up the boys and the flurry of the busy day once again began. But my pace - it was slower. My feet many not have been, but my heart and breath were. And there is nothing I could have possibly "done" in those ten minutes that would have been more valuable for me, or my family. Of that, I am certain.
And so, I find myself once again, committing mindfully to moving slowly through these days.
And you, my friends? You busy mothers, fathers, grandmothers, friends, farmers, caretakers, crafters and dreamers that I know you to be. Can you take ten minutes in your day today...for you?
I hope and wish that for you today. And always.