Taking My Time

People use that phrase to convey a sense that they need to be patient, to slow down, to pay attention to what they're doing, to do it right.

I haven't been.

Over our holiday break we visited my brother-in-law Garrett and his family in Indiana near Indianapolis. They live on old farm land in rural countryside. We fell in love with the area of Shelby County. We're always looking for places to move when we travel, especially when it's closer to family we miss very very much. Garrett had found a property basically "around the corner" that we took a look at while there.


I love when I say in my head, "THAT was unexpected". And THIS was completely unexpected. You know the American dream? The promise of 40 acres and a mule? Well this was 40 acres. 40 acres! And what a house! And we met the neighbor and she has a mule for sale! Holy mackerel. We might buy it if it's meant to be. We'll see.

The thing about this area, this property, this house is that you really get that sense of time slowing down. Well, not slowing down, rather going the right pace. They have all four seasons. The pace of people follows the crop growth more than anything. It's not lazy. It's just taking time.

Over the past half year or so, I've compressed my patience. It's not satisfying. It's stressful. Yes I have my meditative moments while creating, while painting, but we only go 'round once, so why feel pressured to get to the future? I'm going to let it come, let Life flow.

I'm taking my time. For all it's worth. And it's worth a lot. Well, everything, isn't it?

Peace.