I’m stepping back into routine today, as I had a week off from work before I ramp up for the summer. And it was healing to step back. I watched summer sink in as the weather was in the 90’s and the Indy 500 celebrated its 100th race 3 miles from my apartment. I rollerbladed on a flat trail by my parents’ house, went to a coffee shop and shared a pitcher with coffee with Chels. I visited two different farmer’s markets, buying maple syrup, rhubarb, kohlrabi, and lettuce.
I baked a vanilla pudding pie, and it melted in the Memorial Day heat. But even in its soupiness, it was delicious. I threw a frisbee and a football for 15 minutes until it got too hot. I sneezed like crazy and my feet got scratched from the tall grass. I watched Food Network while getting my long awaited IV. I ate dinner and listened and talked with people from church at the barn.
Chels and I signed our lease and are getting excited about moving in July, especially about having more room! Chels and I celebrated her 1 year remission day by going out to lunch at Garden Table, which then extended to dessert after. My sister Laura spent the night and we celebrated her being done teaching by getting tapas and dessert and falling asleep to Gilmore Girls. I had a few coffee dates with people from church. Chels and I went to explore 8 different houses in the Meridian-Kessler home tour, which made it feel like participating in a local HGTV show.
My mind had time to wander and wonder about my health and my vocation. I had time to write and brainstorm about what I hope the fall will look like. I let myself feel small pangs of anxiety of my health flaring up, yet hoping that my work is sustainable even as though it’s looking that my diet will need to change somewhat again.
Yet, the past 10 days has been this beautiful free space. Space for me to be still and hospitable. Space for me to feel intense fatigue and still have trust in this healing journey. Space to put work away for awhile and engage in deep conversations with people. Space for my to dream and hope and know that I’m truly living in abundance.
“Summer is the season when all the promissory notes of autumn and winter and spring come due, and each year the debts are repaid with compound interest. In summer, it is hard to remember that we had ever doubted the natural process, had ever ceded death the last word, had ever lost faith in the powers of new life. Summer is a reminder that our faith is not nearly as strong as the things we profess to have faith in-a reminder that for this single season, at least, we might cease our anxious machinations and give ourselves to the abiding and abundant grace of our common life.”
-Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak