It’s been three years since our last blog entry. Rest assured, we’ve kept busy navigating ever the winding road(s) of life’s journey.
Whether you're in mid summer or mid winter, we are all at mid-year, and this is a beautiful time to take stock of where we've been, where we are, and where we are going.
7:16pm. I pause a moment, revelling in how cathartic it was to get out all of the above. My fingers haven’t stopped moving since they started. If you ever wonder if something is worth pursuing, see if you can drop into it for 18 minutes without distraction. Watch this space.
These are a few of my musings from the last four weeks or so. It’s a journey, and if I’m honest it feels a little strange to be writing en route, rather than upon reaching a destination. But here we are. And I think that’s probably the best place for us to meet – right here, where we are. As we are.
We’ve shared copious cups of tea together. We’ve taken long walks together in beautiful places. We’ve curled up on cozy couches and exchanged long messages from the heart. We’ve swapped thoughtful gifts of all kinds, and they’ve championed my efforts when I’ve fundraised for various projects. I sure do love my soul mamas.
One week and the freedom of four wheels and 1,500 kilometers of narrow, winding roads. A tent stashed in the back, a nose for the nearest ice cream stop, and a playlist of sing-your-heart-out tunes to keep me company. No set plans, just a makeshift map of recommended and repeat places I was itching to visit.
The farm embodies hearth in its gentle way of restoring the soul, grounding me in the soil beneath my soles with gratitude for all that it provides. Slowing me down so that I can hear the birdsong and take notice of the garden as it’s growing. It’s an idyllic way of being and it’s tough work, too, reminding me that good things take time, nurturing, and a whole lot of sweat. Their “come one, come all” hospitality manifested the tender comfort and genuine kindness that define home in its truest sense.
Making mental and handwritten lists of all the wonderful, unexpected ways my needs have been cared for, the conversations sparked in coffee shops and checkout lines, the invitations to events I wouldn’t otherwise know about, the birds that never stop singing. These are the moments that make it all worthwhile, and far outweigh the moments of wondering and worrying. When I’m feeling thankful, I open up to possibility and I know that’s when things start coming together.
