Maple syrup and Monday mornings

Learning to integrate the many things I want to feel and be ~ free, whole, happy, satisfied, full of purpose and vitality ~ with my very real every-day life… 

 

Remnants of maple syrup in my little girl’s hair.

Tylenol for my second-born on this Monday morning. 

The ticking clock before the sun, school by 7:30am.

Forget to place containers on the porch for the milk man. 

Eight children fill the car up to Titchie Swot, pick up ninth.

Pick up empty trash bins on my way back in.

Fruits and veggies on today’s market list. 

Nearly out of honey, must message for more. 

The cheese order will come this afternoon. 

Tiptoe to maintain the tent of blankets, pillows, and sheepskins. 

Sit in the dry garden and write. 

Don’t forget the eggs.

Pick daughter and friend at noon. 

Hike and coffee with a friend of my own. 

After-school snacks for a house full of kids. 

Re-start piano lessons with my four wild things. 

Fill the kitchen with music and dance while making dinner. 

First day of school! ~ August 28th, 2023

(from L to R) Nathaniel = 11 yrs, 5th grade. Titus = 7 yrs, 2nd grade. Anina = 5 yrs, kinder. Zeke = 9 yrs, 4th grade.

p.s. This girl started half-day kindergarten!! 😭🙌😍

To be a writer, an artist, a Christian mystic… while raising four children and partnering with my surgeon husband… while walking deeply with people through life’s muck, madness, and celebrations… while navigating a smorgasbord of cultures and two homes on opposite sides of the world… while staying connected to my body and nature and God… while living in a digital age… 

is quite the colourful and complicated process. 

I keep asking God, 

How???

How do I navigate it all? How do I integrate how I want to 

feel and be with my real, every-day life??

 

“Like this.”, the Spirit whispers. 

 

“You pay attention. You choose to be unhurried and to see. You write and pray and dance and sing. You listen. You look people in the eye. You give the gift of time. You trust and surrender. You sit in the garden. You sit in the pillow fort. You soak it all in and speak thanks.”

 

“Ok.”, I whisper back. 

 

I lean over to smell the white jasmine in bloom, next to the mosaic-topped table where I sit. 

“I’m trusting You that all this matters somehow.” 

I look up at the sky now covered in gray and white clouds. And I feel God smile.