Yesterday I shared with you my goal of slowness. Of presence in this day.
So what came of it, you ask?
I slowed down and watched my husband gently cradle a lamb in his arms.
As he fed her I marveled at this man I have spend half of my life with, who knows me better than anyone else on earth. I wondered what the next 42 years will bring us.
There was time for me to notice.
We took a walk together and found wildflowers by the creek.
I took a few pictures, we pulled a few invasives, and we laughed great belly laughs at whatever sass or nonsense we were talking on this rare and precious "date" together in the woods.
There was time to reconnect.
Together with our kids, we planted dozens of pines along our property's edge.
Not because it was Earth Day but because we love trees and want them to take root. For shade. For shelter. For the future.
The trees were a gift from a friend, and as we planted the kids and I talked about how they were not for us but for for tomorrow. That someday a family would treasure the shade they give, long after we're gone.
There was time for the future.
I was able to sit and be with my child who was having a hard day.
To empathize, to validate, to listen. To be nowhere else but here. After the healing tears were shed I reflected on how thankful I was to have been able to hold that space with her.
There was time to listen.
I cooked a meal for a family I thought could use a little love right now.
Because I could. There was time in all the slowness. After it was delivered I sat in the fleeting sunlight with Lupine in the grass and played farm animals with her.
There was time for others.
And finally, I took a few moments to write.
To work on my book and reconnect with the words I have written so far. It's a big job, but one moment at a time the words are taking shape. For that I am so thankful.
There was time for this dream.
And as the day ended I head the cranes and the peepers and watched the sun slip behind the hills.
A quiet, slow end to a quiet, slow day. And I was thankful for it all.
There was time for gratitude.
And while it sounds like a lot to do in one day – without distraction, without obligation, without hurry – time felt expansive. It was slow and soul-feeding. And just what I needed.
We have a saying here in the Driftless: slower is better. I wholeheartedly agree.