knee deep in weeds

notes on a simple life

slow down

“Restore your attention or bring it to a new level by dramatically slowing down whatever you're doing.” 
― Sharon Salzberg, Real Happiness: The Power of Meditation

On Mondays, I can usually count on a phone call from our son Brandon. Monday is fishing day for him and he often calls me in the evening to tell me about his day. A good day fishing for him, does not necessarily mean he caught fish. What it does mean is that he was out there, on or by some body of water, casting whatever rod he felt was needed to get the job done, doing what he loves. He has a few different fishing partners and there are always stories for him to share. I look forward to these calls. 

He calls last Monday night to report that he didn't catch anything, but man he had fun. It was a beautiful day out and he and his friend were on Whidley Island.  He tells me at one point he just turned his face towards the sun and stood there, just taking in the moment. Fishing always makes both of us think of my dad, his grandpa or Gramps as he called him, and so we talk a bit about Gramps. He tells me that he would give anything to spend just one more day with any of his grandparents and how time flies and we should make the most of it. I went to bed with a very full heart that night. 

It seems that this boy of mine, who will turn 35 in a couple of weeks has learned early what it really means to live. We can't do it all, so we must find what feeds and nourishes our soul and make time to do it. And while we are doing it, we must pay attention and be in the moment. 

I find myself doing more and more of this lately and with purpose. I take my time fixing dinner,  and will spend three days fermenting dough for sourdough bread. l am mindful when working in my garden beds, being careful of the delicate shoots coming up and taking note of the fat worms and the smell of the soil. I taste my food, smell my wine, walk the dog and close my eyes when I row. My world might not be very big, but it is beautiful and full and I try not to miss a thing. 

People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child—our own two eyes. All is a miracle.
— Thich Nhat Hanh, The Miracle of Mindfulness: An Introduction to the Practice of Meditation
Over the years, certain stories in the history of family take hold. They’re passes from generation to generation, gaining substance and meaning along the way. You have to learn to sift through them, separating fact from conjecture, the likely form the implausible.

Here is what I know: Sometimes the least believable stories are the true ones.
— Christina Baker Kline, A Piece of the World

Spring is here for real and I go to bed most nights tired in the best way. Tired from working in the flower beds. My hands hurt and my nails are a mess and no amount of scrubbing removes all the dirt. He has turned most of the vegetables beds and all we need is a bit more warmth and I can plant some seeds in the ground. I find myself eager to get out of bed and wonder if I would be like this if I lived somewhere where the weather was always nice. I think the darkness of winter helps spring seem all that more delicious. 

how was your week?