A sweet breeze
A freshly mowed lawn
Watching two pretty hipster girls help a turtle cross the road in front of our house
Homemade pizzaThere are so many things. Too many things. All pulling at us Demanding our time Our admiration Weighing us down Distracting us from our own happiness. That is clear to me now. I’d like to retreat. To take a breath and remember what it felt like to live quietly. To remember what it was like to live each moment without a screen or shares or likes. To nail down the insatiable need to be heard, understood, seen, thought of, or defined. To parent our children with guts and heart and without the articles, studies, and blogs telling us we’re doing it wrong. To wander out the door without considering the story or photos ops. To spend hours reading a good book and cheering for our own wins. To cook good food and share it with people rather than Instagram. To see what may come out of the silences we allow. And yet I am terrified too. But OH! All the hours spent refreshing and checking in minutes and moments we can’t get back. All the jewelry I will never wear gathering dust on the dresser All the skinny clothes taunting me from the dark corners of the closet. All the books I will never read begging to be set free All the baby clothes with scents and stains and memories embedded in their fibers Sit, musty, in the basement when they could be keeping another babe clothed and warm. All the broken, chipped, mangled, stained pieces I feel so compelled to hold onto. As though my life depends upon it. With a sigh, I let it all go. I release it into the wild world and hope that it warms a body, decorates a nest, or brings a simple joy to someone else. I welcome the space it leaves behind. I am a collector and a story teller with a gypsy heart. It’s true. But I am trying to reconcile the two in hopes of finding peace art and the incredible lightness of being. go gently + be wonderful e.