I remember now

It has been slow in coming. Very slow. 

When I left the world of commuting, offices, and florescent lights to work from home over seven years ago, my chest unclenched for the first time in years. And I realized I had never accurately read the signs. To make up for the office environment I would usually eat my weekday lunch by streams, in parks, under trees, and would dread going back. Not because I hated the work - on the contrary, I loved it - but because I felt trapped indoors. I needed windows, sunlight, air. And suddenly, working from home, I could have all of that. It felt good in my soul. Not too long before I left the land of artificial lighting and recirculated air, I took some sort of a career/personality test and was a bit amused but also taken aback by the results. Apparently I would be well suited to be either an advertising executive (which I was), or a farmer. Huh. It gave me a bit of a chuckle, but also struck home

The next event that increased the momentum of change, was the death of my most beloved dog, Isaac. Frustrated by not being able to create a piece of art that would do him justice, I began to make art again for the first time in years. A little here, a little there, nothing very much, but it was a start. It felt good and it felt right. I began re-using a part of me that I had forgotten about.

Then not quite four years ago, I moved here. Back to the country. Where the mornings are still and peaceful, there is an expectant hush at twilight, and it is quiet and dark at night. Where thoughts are not overwhelmed by noise and bustle. Nature is right outside the door with wildflowers and wildlife in the woods, and birds everywhere. As I began to once again appreciate and seek out tranquility and simplicity, art became increasingly important while other things continued to fall away.

And so I remember now those things that I loved before getting caught up with all the stuff that we frantically fill our lives with. Things like growing cut flowers just so I can bring them into the house. Taking the time to explore my surroundings. Noticing small beauties such as the curl of a leaf, a patch of moss, a tiny mushroom. Really looking and seeing how things are and how they could be. Imagining possibilities. Finding peace in the quiet of the day. 

I feel like I lost my way for awhile, but things are back on track. I am making art, garden plans are underway which will include a large area for cut flowers, and dogs are at my side - just happy being dogs - with no other agenda.