"Once in a while, right in the middle of ordinary life, LOVE gives us a fairy tale."
i had a few "glimpses" these last few days. in the middle of my ordinary life. the first was a glimpse into the beauty of my family and my ordinary life. the second was a glimpse of growth. and the third was a glimpse of generations.
1) an email to a friend who delivered a few birthday gifts to my house this weekend:
it may seem silly but as i was giving you a "tour" of my little life i saw how beautiful it was. unscripted and real. and it was all the things i had ever wanted. and i realized i had them all. all those beautiful gifts right now. tim and bronwyn playing a board game. davis digging a leprechaun trap in the front. skyler swinging in the back. little seeds. sprouts and natural yeast and aloe vera in the windowsill. belle bookshelves. and evidence of love and caring everywhere. checks from my parents for the kids cookie dough fundraisers. a little recipe box from aunt dora full of cash from unexpected sources. roxy running around.
the refrain "all is well" playing right now. and that's what i feel like. all is well. happily ever after. i wouldn't change a thing right now. truly. i have been showered again and again and again with blessings. and i was given that small moment to see it around me.
and your gifts of "fresh courage" and "magic" made me think that the themes i choose, the goals i make, and the little choices i make every day to encourage magic and courage really do work.
2) caleb warnock, author of The Forgotten Skills of Self-Sufficiency Used by the Mormon Pioneers, was offering a garden tour this weekend. i wasn't planning to go. i was a bit sick and i had already been before. but a friend from my nutrition group was driving down from slc and didn't have the address. i didn't either. but i knew where it was. so we met up and i led her there. and while i was there i walked back to take a peek (and met up with several other friends from my nutrition group). and it was a glimpse. remembering sitting under those same apple trees (that were bare and had just been pruned) and listening to melissa teach about natural yeast. taking my hopeful little baggie of "peeta" home. naming it sarah. baking. feeding. discovering it made the best crepes in the world. and then saying goodbye to sarah last week--when she was no longer raising (due to a little holdiay neglect). i had used my dried reserve to start another. and "manna" was born this week--housed in an adam's peanut butter jar that melissa recommended. it only took me six months to empty it. and in that garden moment i saw progress. a new skill developed over six months. and it felt good. and i didn't feel like a failure that sarah was no longer with us. i felt like i had adapted and learned how to keep it going--regardless. although the kids genuinely mourned sarah's absence from our fridge.
3) i had a sink full of apples that my dad had picked in october (wrinkly--but edible). i decided to use the dehydrator my parents had got me for christmas--which had taken me that long to figure out how to use (i wish i would have just realize you plug it in and turn it on). i made nine trays of apple leather. just apples. blended. three trays were eaten in a day. as i saw my sink full of apples, i looked out my window and saw the two fruit tress my dad had just purchased and helped us plant (and protect from deer). and i thought of my grandpa who had given my dad his apple tree. as i watched my kids muching on the fruit leather--it was one of those glimpses. connections. influence. hope--that one day or little tree would give us our own fruit. and i was grateful for my exact family. when i was at the garden tour i was surprised at the excitement over a couple of cows, some chickens and a small garden. not that it wasn't awesome--but i grew up with that in my backyard on a much bigger scale. and i was so grateful that i had. that i had dreams of a farm girl. and those dreams are coming true. garden. fruit trees. homemade bread. and the kids and i are dreaming about chickens and raspberry bushes now. . .and a milking goat for someday.
these were all glimpses that "i already am what i am becoming." the ultrasound, or glimpse, of the gestation of my goals and my abundance.
"If I could have one wish for everyone this New Year it would be that we could all remember that everything is gestation and then birthing. And so whatever your goals, even if you can’t tell the birth story of that goal yet, remember that you already are what you are becoming, and that each step of the journey to becoming has value. And by appreciating each day and each step, you honor the pregnancy as well as the birth. And if you ever feel stretched or heavy along the way, perhaps you’ll stop on a hillside to breathe and recognize that you are carrying holy cargo, and perhaps it is not heaviness, but abundance that surrounds you.
And if I could have a second wish this New Year, it would be that we can all recognize in each other, the good fruit we are each gestating. Just like John the baptist recognized the Savior in his mother’s cousin’s womb, and lept for joy. May we all have joy for each other and for what we are and what we are becoming."--Felice
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