I'm here with my computer, typing at a small table in front of a giant window veiled in gauzy curtains. I see blue sky out there. Goodness, it's beautiful. Also in front of me is a small expanse(!) of time uninterrupted. Hours of opportunity for quiet, for writing, for drawing, for eating blueberries and cream (one of my favorite things, come May). The boys are with friends, the dog is, too, and I get to do this. Yes, I'm pinching myself!
As I began to write this morning, I remembered this post, this one that I wrote last fall about the rhythm of our days, and I realized how well it would fit into this series on living less. I decided right then to loop it in right here, today. Because I'd like all of you to have the chance to read it, even the ones who hadn't found this site just yet.
This is for you who love the practical, the boots-on-the-ground, the clearly-painted picture. Its sequel that's packed full with detail, will follow on Monday.
I suppose you could say there's a rhythm to our days.
Just like the steps that we walk and the breath that we breathe, it’s becoming a natural cadence of living and doing. We certainly don’t have this life figured out; I’m not sure that we’re supposed to, really. But, we’ve found that simply knowing what to expect along the lines of the day is helpful for all to feel at ease. It makes for more focused production during the work times, and for more appreciation of freedom during the open times.
This rhythm began, really, with recognizing what it is that speaks life and meaning to our souls. For us, that includes the outdoors, fitness, handwork, whole food, solitude, reading, faith, keeping company, sports, education, community, art, family, and meaningful work. Around this, we’ve orchestrated a rhythm of sorts, to give shape to our days and room for our interests.
One thing that I’ve learned along the way of life, is that I can’t make myself into something that I am not (or my family members into something they are not). I can inscribe new habits when it's time, I can learn new things, I can grow, but I cannot change the essence of me. This means, I’ve found, that I cannot follow someone else’s personal or suggested schedule. It feels mis-fit to me, and jagged around the edges, and I soon realize that I’m uptight and anxious. I must feel for my own rhythm, the one that comes naturally to me, to us.
So, quietly written on the pages of my journal, is the rhythm of our days. This writing-down is mostly for me, as mama and chief orchestrator, so I don’t miss the important (because you do have to be intentional about what's important, it seems). It’s not a schedule. It’s a guideline, showing me where the high points are. It’s a tool for developing habits, and it’s always open for change.
Now, because we learn from each other, and because there may be something in our days that may inspire yours, I’ll share this rhythm of which I speak, on Monday, for you to interpret as you wish.
Wishing you the loveliest of weekends, friends!
This is fifth in a series of posts in which I look back on the past two years of living in 665 square feet as a family of five. The series begins here.