Slowing Down

    The past 16 months have unearthed underlying challenges and brought new ones. The kind of challenges that create both pain and growth. The kind of pain and growth that will continue to live as markers in my life; creating a before and after. I am comforted knowing that many, many others are experiencing their own pivotal moments and I am hope-filled as I speculate about the future and how the “after" will be different. We have common ground in our pain and the motivation to work together because to survive we must act with responsibility to the greater community and environment.  

    The stress and circumstances of 2020 had me ask myself, “Where is my heart full? 

Where in my life does love flow; creates space but also insulates?”

    I returned to my home state of Maine and moved down the road from the farm I grew up on and where my mother still lives. Over the past 40 years, she has created a place of beauty and sustainable living on a 250 year old farm. She grows all of her own food and maintains the land and her animals. She also has the most beautifully curated farmhouse, barn and gardens; it is a whirlwind of inspiration for my creative mind. I started working on the farm and flowed with the seasons. Preserving the garden vegetables for the cold months ahead, burning the wood stove all winter long, planting the seedlings as the ground warmed in spring and harvesting strawberries this past week. The sweetness of the berries made me feel like I had never eaten a strawberry before. Juicy, staining my fingers and shirt and full of the taste of sunlight and earth. I wonder if this taste experience is so different because I’m different. My life is slower than it was pre-pandemic. I take care of everything more. Whether it is my relationships, my home, my dreams or my health.  I feel bigger (not just my waist size) but my senses feel more alive. I feel the subtlety of my life and then act on it. This time with my mother is like that strawberry, I savor every moment. 

    She taught me how to make strawberry jam without pectin. It is all about reaching the right temperature so the jam will be the right consistency. We decided to share the jam with friends, family and neighbors and because I adore giving gifts I was delighted to wrap the jars as presents. It started with the pinking shears sitting on my desk. I had inherited them from my grandmother who was a weaver and quilter. Then I remembered the jam that our neighbors used to make and give to our family when I was little. It always had a little fabric topper that was trimmed with picking shears and tied with a ribbon. I shopped at our local fabric store, and although I am not a quilter, the mass of patterns and color in one place is stimulating and a happiness-maker. I picked out a small strawberry print, a gingham, a lavender, a dark blueish-purple and an old fashioned red and white pattern and then the green, red and blue ribbons to compliment. Creating harmony with color, pattern and texture is relaxing and often surprising. When I remain open to the unexpected, this is when the best things happen.

    My life slowing down was unexpected. However, it has brought me time spent and learning from loved ones and nature. I now notice small joyful moments regularly and how sharing them with others multiples the ripple of joy.