It’s the middle of summer and I feel like I’ve come out of winter hibernation. Ada had a few temper tantrums during our previous adventures, and after creative questioning to discover the workings of a 2-year old mind, I unearthed the fact that she doesn’t want the big camera along on our adventures. At least for now.
So, yes, we’ve been out exploring our rural world and seeing how nature has overtaken the inorganic, but I haven’t been able to share with you. You see, I take my word seriously….at least with our kids (and I’m working on cycling it through the rest of life). Decision making must be something else that you lose when half your brain cells get squeezed out of existence during childbirth.
We visited this rusty, gutted truck in the woods earlier in the week. Ada gleefully exclaimed “We found the truck! Great job, Mommy. You found it!” and expressed a desire to adventure again there with Daddy.
I asked, “How about we bring the camera next time?”
So, here’s our recent adventure that I can finally show you. Photographing in the woods is tricky with the mottled light coming through the leaves. I just blame it on the fact that I’m a little rusty (ha ha…oh, I’m so funny) from adventuring sans camera. It’s kind of like where I feel right now. Rusty. Stuck in one spot. Some days I just want to sit on the couch and wish the cacophony of little people would drown into the background. There’s no energy to get up, pack up, and take the chance that we can make it out of the house and back in one, sane piece.
I guess you need to oil the joints regularly and keep moving so you don’t rust and sink into the ground like this truck. Oil the joints regularly? Morning coffee and some time reading to get my head on straight. It’s a bonus if I can drink the entire cup hot and make it through reading in one sitting. Keep moving. Some days I have to tell myself not to stop. To go ahead and brush my teeth, get out of the house, empty the dishwasher yet again, and go through the perpetual motions. Because some days, going through the motions at least will help me not get stuck. And sometimes that momentum picks up and I actually accomplish things I need to. And that’s when I feel like I can rest.
We’re learning to rest at our home. To quiet ourselves, to be present. In that rest some of the most amazing ideas are born. Ideas for things of meaning that I want to do with you and show you. I guess not all the good brain cells ran for the hills in that labor and delivery room (just the ones that remember things and do math). We learn to rest or we’ll inevitably rust.