learning to waste time
if you had a day without plans, what would you do?
I’ve just returned home after two weeks away from my normal life which, despite its smallness, is always quite busy. Perhaps you only realise how much you do on any given day when you step away and notice the sudden lack of tasks to be completed, the overwhelming quiet. There’s so few socks to pick up, less muttering, a distinct lack of questions and requests.
Our house is old and light-filled and there is always something happening within its walls. There is a whole family story unfolding here but I lose that perspective when I’m deep in the work of everyday. Sometimes it’s helpful (and important) to get some distance so you can peek through the windows and watch from afar.
On my return I felt each muscle relax, a deepening of breath, a sinking in to the rhythm that exists within these walls; of food being made and continuous washing cycles, of conversation up one end and giggles/squabbles down the other. The floorboards are incused with our footprints (and dog scratches) and the beds aren’t made all that neatly but they are inviting; linen and wool and plaid; layers of comfort beckoning.
I walk down the hall and notice that the walls are warm; the fire is lit most days because since I left the temperature has dropped and the air smells like the cusp of winter; cool, a bit bitey. In a few more weeks I’ll be wearing fingerless gloves. The leaves on the Japanese maple are red, not the tinged orange they were when I left and the back garden is littered with magnolia leaves that have fallen to let the bare branches breathe; a reminder that the cold and quiet is coming and I should fall into a similar slow pace — cancel plans, lower my expectations, daydream, hibernate.
I planted rocket and kale seeds and now they have sprouted; my Tasmanian purple garlic has announced its growth in the most joyful lines of green shoots. Life goes on and yet look closely and there’s always these tiny changes happening; in nature and in ourselves. Subtle micro-seasons that signal change, growth and evolution. This is all of us, all of the time.