This has simultaneously been the best and worst year. The longest and shortest year. The most and least productive year. The most freeing and burdened year. But, in all of this, I think grace has been abundant, even when I didn’t feel it. In the dips and valleys of the worsts, longests, leasts, and burdens. Grace abounds. Hope peeks in. Love and light break through the cracks of despair.
Grace has felt a lot like freedom. It’s been both raw and gentle. With big feelings that can be crushing if they’re not handled gently. Raw and gentle. Wounds and healing. This year has been powerful and awful and wonderful.
I’m leaning in.
I long to live a more restful life. In the past I might have thought it was lazy. But it’s not. It’s being intentional about rest and self-care. It’s prioritizing the things that are important to me and letting go of some of the things that no longer get to take up space.
I’m leaning in. I’ve started making more of our food from scratch. Things like bread, stock, and applesauce. They’re made from scraps and wild yeast. The stock is made from the contents of the freezer bag that has been filling up over the past few months. It’s stuffed with veggie ends and trimmings. Popped in the Instant Pot and covered with water to cook for a short time. It yields the richest veggie broth I could imagine. The applesauce is made from the fruit’s pulp, leftover from making Brandy Apple Jelly. The bread is leavened with wild yeast water, made from dried dates that I bought ages ago. It blows me away to be able to cook with things that might have been tossed into the compost bin.
I’m leaning in. I’m growing things in the garden. Looking for quality over quantity. A slow paced life over one that lets me win the battle of who is the busiest or the most tired. I’m looking for time to breathe deep, enjoy the crisp fall air, and pet the sweetest dog who is sleeping beside me as I type.
I’m leaning in. Literally. Leaning in to the sleepy Brando, to smoosh the soft fur around his ears. I could have missed out on this.
I wonder, when 2020 is but a memory, what will normal be like? I’m hoping that these things stick. I’ve heard this sentiment echoed, so I know I’m not the only one who has been longing for something to change.