I take my first sip of strong, sweet tea for the morning. The first sip always caresses my soul in a way that the rest of the cup can’t quite replicate. I curl up in my favorite spot on the couch as the cat and I compete for space. As usual, the cat wins. As I sip and take a deep breath, the sound of the cat’s purr dances in my ears as I take this moment to be present and create joy. I glance at the clock and see I have 15 minutes before I need to log in to work. This moment of peace is a far cry from my life five minutes ago…
My husband and I juggle the kids to get them out the door to school. Shoes. Jackets. Backpacks. Pounce on the 7 year old while spraying water in her hair to try and tame her wild tresses. Masks. Snacks. Water bottles. The kids are finally ready, both sitting on the living room floor engaged with the toys their Grammy gave them this weekend. I stand at the door watching for the bus, chatting with my husband about what plans we have for the day. As we are bantering, he is puttering around the kitchen making my tea like he does every morning. I smell coffee as he brews himself a cup of pour-over coffee. He loves the intent and slower pace of brewing this way. “BUS!” I yell out to my son as I watch the middle school bus bounce down our street. He comes running, only stopping long enough for a quick kiss on the head. “I love you, have a good day!” I cry out just loud enough for him to hear, but not so loud that the kids on the bus will hear. As I am watching the taillights of his bus, the elementary bus makes its appearance. “BUS!” I exclaim for the second time. My daughter comes running to the front door with the excitement for school unique to a first grader. She gets a giant hug and a kiss. “I love you, have a great day!” I wave at her friends as she scurries to the bus. Shortly after the kids leave, my husband leaves for work, and I am alone to start my day... I snap back to the present, glance at the clock again and note that it’s now time to start my work day. I wander to my office and plop into my chair, ready to see what the day will hold. Love Muffin the cat–my best little coworker– jumps in my lap to help. I enjoy my work, and the morning passes in blissful quiet. Lunch time arrives and I excitedly walk out to my backyard garden. I turn on the hose and go from plant to plant, watering and inspecting each one. I marvel at each new leaf and ripening fruit. I look over my garden closely multiple times a day, just for the sheer happiness it brings me. I know every branch, every plant. There is something so deeply satisfying about growing things and nourishing my family with my garden’s abundance. Now…my garden is not what one would call beautiful. The soil where I live is hard clay, not well-suited to growing much of anything; therefore, I grow entirely in planters, pots and repurposed containers. To the casual observer, it’s a hodgepodge of pallet planters, dollar store buckets and grow bags…not exactly what comes to mind when you think of a well-appointed garden. Plus, I am occasionally surprised by plants sprouting from seeds I didn’t necessarily plant that year. It rarely goes to plan. Yet, so much care and intent lies within my little utilitarian garden. It would be so easy to just water my garden and walk away, onto the next thing requiring my attention. But if I did that, I would miss each tomato blushing and each carrot sprouting. I would miss the wonder of watching my plants grow from seeds into thriving plants, filled with fruits and vegetables. The proof is in the harvest; we grow an abundance of produce in this small, chaotic backyard garden through spring, summer and fall. My life is a lot like this garden. As the mother of young children, my life is chaotic and to the outsider, it looks like a hodgepodge of interruptions, conflicting schedules, and things often not going according to plan. Homework struggles and activities fill our weeknights, making me feel like a lot of the lessons I’m trying to teach my children are falling on hard soil. Held up against a standard of a “beautifully-cultivated life” we are certainly failing. Thankfully, visual perfection isn’t what I’m trying to grow: what I’m trying to grow in our lives is joy. Joy in my life is cultivated in countless small moments as they pop up organically, not according to some grandiose plan. That said, I grab onto the joyful moments and remain present and mindful as they happen, even when they’re fleeting. Much like with my garden, I tend to my life. When my children arrive home from school, I could just grab them a snack and rush back to my work. Instead, I take a few moments to hear about their day, look at work they are proud of and listen to them. I watch my kids dance in the summer rain, as they get dirty and run with the neighbor kids in unscheduled play. I grab onto the moments of joy in my everyday life when they arise, and hold on tight, just as I do when I tend to my garden. So, I’m not failing at all. Though my life looks chaotic to many, it's not built to be conventionally beautiful; it’s designed to provide an environment that nurtures joy. I plant and cultivate joy in my life all year long, every chance I get. And because in life–as in the garden–you reap what you sow, we live with an abundance of joy.
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AuthorI'm so tired. The children are so not tired. |