this is my revolt against the busy.

The kettle whistled, except it was more of a song, and I turned the stove off and grabbed a tea packet out of the cabinet. I poured the water slowly, breathing deep of the smell of chai. And the tag on the tea packet caught my eye. "When God created time he made enough of it." - Celtic Saying I paused, read it again, and snapped it off, placing it on the windowsill so I could glance at it the rest of the day.

It sounds silly to say that a teeny tiny note on the tag of a tea packet made such a huge impact on me, but it did. We all have twenty four hours in a day -- the perfect amount of time -- and what matters is what we decide to do with those hours. I'm convicted in my own life. I've been feeling very much like a busybody lately. Hurrying from one thing to the next and trying to stay on top of everything. Believing that the most fulfilling life is the one most filled. Emptying my cup over and over again and trying to wring the last drops out, all the while wondering why I'm doing so much yet accomplishing so little.

Yesterday, was my revolt against the busy. And it was so good for my heart.

I turned off my computer. I started the day with my journal and the Bible. I brewed tea and read story books to the kiddos and sat outside on the deck with a pen and paper, just for the sake of writing. I made a special breakfast for my siblings, just because. I played piano for awhile, the keys under my fingers and the sound resonating in the house. I worked on school and cleaned the kitchen and did all sorts of normal, simple, everyday things. But there was a calm and quiet throughout the day. Not a hurry hurry, rush rush, but a here now, feeling.

Slowing down helps me to appreciate life and the ordinary beauty in the everyday. I don't want to live asleep, always racing to the next thing and planning for tomorrow yet forgetting to live in today. In the here and now that makes up our lives. The texture of the rice in the soup, the feeling of woolen socks on my feet, the smell of candles and spices and the sound of classical music. The way Samuel stomps around in his rain boots no matter what the weather and how Brennan and Caleb can spend hours building lego sets and creating stories after stories. Chloe's artwork and Grace's crimped hair and card games.

I want to be present and purposeful with my life.

Yesterday candles lined our long wooden table, their flames flickering and filling the air with the smell of pumpkin and apple spice, and a few gourds from my grandpa's garden clustered in corners by succulents. I wore a sweater and long woolen socks Kiley bought me because it was chilly, and I pretended that the leaves were turning into ambers and tangelos and mahoganies. We had soup for dinner, and there was nothing better than being curled up on the bench at the table, as my sisters and I ladled the hot soup slowly, savoring every spoonful. The rice was soft, the chicken tender, the carrots at just the right constancy, the onions sweet, and the celery added just enough of a crunch to round all the flavors and textures together into the perfect balance. Sweater weather is better weather and soup season is my favorite.

Slowing down is good. September is a perfect time to start. Fall is for slow days, quiet hours spent with a cup of tea, a moleskine, and family. I am intentionally trying to slow down, to be present, and to be meaningful and purposeful in my life. I wrote in my journal months back, "I was made for lake life, country life, simple life." and it's never rang truer than now.