As a new season of outdoor work begins in earnest, with so much to be done that we are excited about, it is tempting at times to make a big to do list and dive deep into it. With energy, swiftly, and efficiently. Not just because I want to get the work done, but because I enjoy doing the work itself. I have quite fallen in love with the work that this land requires of us. My garden. The animals. The woods.
But with a small child at my side (or two or three or more), it is so important that especially now, I quiet that voice of efficiency in my head that occasionally whispers "it would be easier/faster/tidier if you just did it yourself!"
Yes, perhaps it would be easier/faster/tidier if I just did it myself. But "easier" and "faster," I remind myself and that distracting voice, are not exactly the goals I've set out to master in this little life of ours. And so I lean on "of course you can help me!" and "why don't you try it yourself!" Because I know with certainty that they will not always be at my side, in this pasture, in this home. That soon they will be surpassing me in height and strength and the speed at which the work is done. That when we work in this way, they grow capable and confident before my eyes. For this moment in time, things might get done just a bit slower. There may be a broken egg or two. The seeds might get a little too much watering. But I don't want them to be rushed through this fleeting age of eagerness curiousity and wonder, nor do I want to miss experiencing it alongside them.
Do you know how warm an egg is just after the moment it comes out of the chicken? If you watch and wait for it and grab it the very moment it emerges? It is so very warm - so warm that it is best felt by rubbing it on your cheeks, and turning your face to the sun. I had never done that last part before until yesterday when Annabel showed me. Oh thank you, my little ones. I have so much to learn.
