I started my daughter in one day of preschool last January. It became apparent pretty quickly that it wasn't time yet, and the more I thought about it the more I like the idea of homeschooling. Then a week or so ago she started talking about "her school" and wanting to go again.
I live in Colorado but hail from Washington. I miss my family, miss the green and damp and salt water. Just as we begin to make plans to move their, we get a dream job here. Just as I settle deeper here (by planting fruit trees or starting a small flock of chickens), I have a dream about my mom that makes me want badly to move home. Or I hear about a super cool farm near Portland, Oregon. And then I see my future there - at least until I am faced with what anamazing community I have here when a friend offers to lend me her entire cloth diaper stash for my baby due in September.
It can be seventy five degrees here, urging me to put peas in the ground, and then snow, pulling me to hot cocoa, tea, and blankets.
I drive myself crazy with my planning sometimes, and my restlessness (Sag rising, for you astrologers). I can tell the universe is trying to remind me to live in the moment and go with the flow. We may live here for another twenty years, or only another three. I may homeschool or not. Peas may sprout or not.
That's my meditation these days. Breathe. Live now. Have faith. It's hugely challenging for me. But when I can breathe into those spaces, it feels so, well, spacious.
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