Sometimes in the whirlwind of life, I pause long enough to catch glimpses of beauty, growth and progress. I try to stop and luxuriate in the sweetness of it before the next demand on my time brings me back to whatever task is at hand. Here are a few throwback photos from this summer that melt my heart like butter.
This bouquet whispers to me about courage, victory and overcoming defeat. It challenges me to persevere, grow, and believe. It reminds me that it takes time to cultivate beauty and that beauty is a worthy pursuit.
Last winter I when started sighing over seed catalogues and sobbed over the loss of yet another box of dahlia tubers that didn't make it through the winter, I considered giving up on what felt like a frivolous pursuit. I questioned my ability to keep up with seed trays and a planting schedule in light of many more pressing demands on my time and energy. And yet, I didn't. Instead I bought MORE seed trays, MORE dahlia tubers and carefully organized my seeds so that I knew exactly what needed to be planted where and when. I drew up garden plans according to sunlight requirements and purchased a ten year garden journal from Lee Valley to document my journey. I hurled myself into gardening with fervor, planting a whole garden bed of dahlias from seed. I carefully potted up hundreds of snapdragons with a toothpick, presoaked sweet peas and carefully nurtured hundreds of seedlings all the while believing that I was insane to do so. I knew that there was no guarantee that it would amount to anything, and yet I pushed past this doubt because my soul longs for beauty as well as the thrill of imagining something and bringing it to fruition.
Each time I gathered an armload of tall, luscious, multi-hued blooms I would find myself musing -"what else can I cultivate"? What else could I succeed at? What else am I pouring my time and energy into that would produce so much loveliness. For me the obvious answer is my children. Like those tedious snapdragons that took forever to amount to anything, I am beginning to see growth and beauty in areas of my children's lives that has taken YEARS to nurture. Choosing to be home and labor alongside them in their formative years has not been an easy choice and there are days where my heart aches for other pursuits, but when I look at the fruit of my decision, I am overcome with gratitude that I have stuck with it.
When my children bring me handmade cards, un-solicited head rubs and a hot cups of tea.
Listening
To "Just Like Heaven" by Brandon Lake on repeat.
Reading
The Question by Leigh A Bortins
Contemplating
Becoming a director for Classical Conversations. I have been asked to be the "lead learner" for the Grade nine class. Gulp! It would require a great deal of planning and intention.
Delighting
All the tulips, fritillaria, and daffodils that I planted in the fall are unfolding and bringing a burst of color to the verdant sea of green in my yard.
Thinking
About where I would like to go on my 20th anniversary trip with my husband. We have been saving points for this trip for a long time. The options are endless and overwhelming.
Currently
Potting up the dahlia's I grew from seed and hopefully sowing some amaranth seeds today.
Learning
About Indigenous people across Canada with my children. They have loved making pemmican, learning how to weave and building wigwams and other traditional structure on our property.
Reading
Calm my Anxious Heart by Linda Dillow. I would highly recommend this book if you struggle with anxiety.
Dreaming
Of rows upon rows of sunflowers, cosmos and dahlias.
Baking
Sourdough bread
Planning
My garden maps and making lists of curriculum to order for next year.
Longing
To spend an entire day in my garden planting out all the seedlings that have taken over my boot room. .
This is a post I wrote last June but I never posted it. How I long for the green that Spring brings!
I am setting aside two mornings per week to write. Something deep inside me needs an outlet for expression, not just because I live a fairly isolated existence but also because my children are not yet riveting conversationalists. I long to share my heart and its musings in a meaningful way. I suppose it is a therapy of sorts, an unraveling of the spaghetti that is my brain.
I love reading works of literature that invite the reader into the inner dialogue of its author. It's like climbing into people's minds to understand how they arrive at their various conclusions. Some of my recent favorites include The Secrets Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert: An English Professor's Journey into Christian Faith" by Rosaria Butterfield. I also recently enjoyed The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Murial Barbery and The Truth and Beauty: How the Lives and Works of England's Greatest Poets Point the Way to a Deeper Understanding of the Words of Jesus by Andrew Klaven.
Both reading and writing are an invitation to contemplation and to wrestling with ideas. Truthfully, I have felt a little exhausted wrestling with ideas the past two years, particularly in light of all the conflicting information that has steamed rolled my direction. I find myself struggling with the temptation not to think, but rather to stuff every waking moment with someone else's thoughts and opinions on a particular matter. Some of the content I consume is incredibly encouraging, insightful, and motivating but some of it is complete drivel.
It's unhealthy and I am making a concerted effort to invite silence back into my life. Often that looks like sitting in my bay window with a hot cup of tea in the afternoon, just relishing the view. In doing so I find myself more refreshed than I would have if I had spent that time scrolling through Instagram.
Over the past two years, I have had an uncanny aversion to writing. Even journaling has taken a back seat. I think perhaps, I am afraid to feel the weight of my emotions and instead, have used podcasts and other diversions to avoid having to sit with my emotions. I know that it is unhealthy and I am making a concerted effort that change that.
