Change happens incrementally, yet it’s funny how you recognize it all at once. Somehow, some way, it seems we have settled in to this “new normal”. Daily processes that I completed begrudgingly have become routine and things get done without a grumble more often than not. I mean, it’s taken nearly a year but I don’t do anything without flailing and bucking for a good, long while. That’s not to say that there aren’t still days I feel trapped and smothered but I know those feelings are a manifestation of an imbalance in self-care or unprocessed fear, sorrow and anger.The fall and winter months have really proven to be some of the most productive months I’ve had in a while and the culmination of all that productivity is my current mindset.
A few months ago, I began instructing PiYo group fitness again. I had agonized over going back to teaching or training again but wasn’t quite sure how to implement it in a way that served who I am now and played to those strengths. It’s nice to be back in a role where I feel I’m actively helping others achieve their goals. Most days, however, I think it’s helping me more to be outside the house moving this body that has been begging to be utilized and strengthened. Also, Granny, Mom, my aunt and all three kids have been participating, too, and there’s an explicable joy in knowing that I am providing a healthy example and they are replicating it.
Since the weather has been cold, getting Granny outside and active has been challenging. We still have places to go and things to do but most times, she seems a little bewildered, almost lost in the places we go, unsure of where to go or what’s happening. She never says as much but I can see it in her eyes, the way she wrings her hands and her forced smile. She is never lost is when it comes to yard work, though. This week, we had a couple of nice days and her and I worked on cutting brush and picking up debris around the yard. We had a nice bonfire that night. There’s something very therapeutic about burning things. Not a moment too soon either: I had a bad case of cabin fever and her and I had seemed to really be gettin’ on each other’s nerves. You can only keep two strong-willed women cooped up together for so long.
I’ve accepted that, despite wanting to continue the homesteading journey I had planned in my mind, it’s up to me to be content with and grateful for where I am. I don’t know where we’ll be a month from now. Finances are still as up in the air as they’ve ever been and each month is a struggle, every day bringing a new fun twist. (Where’s the sarcasm font when you need it?!) Regardless, I am here now and it doesn’t take one red cent to start planning this year’s garden.
My friend and I sat down and started seeds this week. We planted chamomile, basil, rosemary, onions and companion flowers for summer crops. I made a mental list of the seeds I would need to start next and how I could reconfigure the garden for optimal growth and harvesting this year. It was a happy distraction from the bleak grey outdoors and yet another reminder of the word that keeps coming up for me. Seasons. Everything has it’s season. Seasons constantly change. Seasons consistently come back around again. Frightening and comforting. We can’t have constant summer. Sometimes we have to embrace the winter for it’s restorative properties. The way it forces you to slow down, step back, reflect and plan.
Still, I long for my little cabin in the woods.
Change happens incrementally.
Peace, Love and Cheesecake!