I remind myself, more often than not by doing the opposite, how much less is more.
After a weekend with too many things, all of which didn't turn out as planned, the following weekend called for slow. Other than collecting our two CSAs (milk and meat), nothing needed to happen- maybe go for a hike, maybe do a couple of chores, maybe make a big pot of soup.
Friday, while Clark was in his wild nature class, Sophie and I spent a slow day watching cartoons and writing in our journals. What we thought might be the onset of a cold, by mid day turned out to be not much, so we headed to the woods, per her request, to "sketch a little."
Later that afternoon, a text invited us to eat and sit around a fire- a slow day gift.
The next two days followed at a similar pace- time to read, walk through the market, replant the garden for winter and spring (the garlic is IN!), walk on a new to us trail. It called for sitting outside with good, cheap pizza and beer, and taking our time to finish up the things around the house.
My sleep has been uneasy the last couple weeks. Perhaps it's the climate of our world, the tone I feel and hear from everyone I speak to lately. Perhaps I'm just in a place where I need more self-care; whatever is going on, I remember back when our children were little and keeping our weekends slow was a means of survival. I'm thinking it's time to revive those weekends- family hikes being on the top of the short list of to-dos.
It helps that Indiana is beautiful right now. The air is perfectly crisp. There is no better time for hiking, for soup and a good book or journal; there is no better time to embrace slow.