SLOW DOWN

I guess the upside of not sleeping well at night is that one is forced to slow down one's pace during the day. That 2 word directive has been an appropriate fortune cookie since we moved to Maine. Now that we have lived here in Bethel for going on 11 years, I am finally beginning to get it. The pace of life is slower up here because it is embedded in the timing of the changing seasons. My pace of life in Marblehead was built on a rhythm that echoed the intensity of traffic, busy people and a little too much caffeine and like a fine sand, it wasn't even noticeable until it was gone and all that was left was a subtle sense that something was different. It has taken many years for me to slow my pace to match my environment if only to get in step with the dance of the seasons. I find that when I return to the old pace, I quickly become exhausted and because I am an empathic human, I often mirror the pace of my environment both psychologically and socially. I do so at my own peril.

Today I entered the soft white flakes falling silently in awe of the beauty. The trees reaching upward with white sleeves and fluffy white snow raising even the humblest dead plant to a work of art and I felt refreshed. I thought to myself...slow down. Slow down and let the puppies play and roll until their ears were decorated with hundreds of little snowballs...slow down and take some photos of the beauty around you...slow down and breathe in the healing breath the trees are breathing out. And before I knew it...it was lunch time. In a few seconds we had homemade pesto noodles with garden grown stewed tomatoes and crushed turkey bacon bits. Most of our meal came from my sore knees and sweat from the hot sun as I worked in the garden. I realized I've been marveling over the wonder of having such a nourishing stash of food in my freezer but I had not been savoring the depth...the meaning of growing ones own food...the wholehearted trust that nothing is chemically tainted...the flavors of the summer heat. As I slow down to deepen my appreciation for the goodness I have grown, I wonder how my homegrown food feeds my spirit...and as I write this little blog, I slowly become aware that the whole process...the growing, picking, packing and finally preparing...is the seed that sends up the green tendril of desire from my heart...to write again and create a new start. And the timing is perfect...all I need to do is slow down. When spring comes around and I return to the garden, it will be with a new sense of growing myself.