It's been a long while

It's been some time since I blogged over hear. You should follow me over at lighttheflame. I post over there with much more frequency and will keep you entertained.

And the day came when the risk 

to remain tight in a bud was more painful 

than the risk it took to blossom.

- Anaïs Nin

words to live by

the one year itch

A friend called me last weekend and said "I'm restless." I knew exactly what she meant. I was driving home on a Saturday evening from a home visit and a long day of work. Restless. Knowing that something needs to change, but not being able to figure out what it is.

I'm no stranger to this feeling. It's taken me from my family home to MN to the Villa. And, now, it's back. I thought I was finished with the one year plan. One year in MN. One year at the Villa. March is usually the month when I begin looking for a new job, a new program. But, this year, I'm settling into a normal life. My life isn't dictated by the end of a program in July. Even so, I still find myself quickly looking up things that will change my "current life." Quickly as in "if I don't look at this webpage for a long time, then nothing will need to change." I tell everyone that I don't want to uproot myself for at least a year because I'm tired of living my life in one year increments, but I feel like it's time to change something up. I don't know what that will be. I don't want to change jobs. I don't want to change living arrangements.

But, I feel the need for change. I feel like I am somehow settling and I don't like that feeling. I don't know what I am settling with or if I'm settling with everything...or nothing at all.

just one weekend

There is a Beautiful Creature

Living in a hole you have dug.

So at night

I set fruit and grains

And little pots of wine and milk

Beside your soft earthen mounds,

And I often sing.

But still, my dear,

You do not come out.

I have fallen in love with Someone

Who hides inside you.

We should talk about this problem---

Otherwise,

I will never leave you alone.

-Hafiz

I first came across this poem about 1 year ago. I boxed & starred it and filed it away in my neatly organized binder. Last Friday, while reflecting on the past year, I came across it and felt like it was written just for me. It perfectly describes my life right now and the running that I tend to do. Something tells me that I should tape this somewhere where I can read it every morning.

The long weekend was a homecoming and a reunion of sorts. It was a time to relax, take brisk walks for the few minutes that I could brave the temperatures, visit the farm, catch up with people I love, & visit my heart.

welcome home.

oh hey.

sharing a little love

This brown bag probably doesn't look like anything special. On Monday morning, I packed up my bags and headed back to work. One of the sisters insisted on backing me a brown bagged lunch complete with a sandwich, fruit, chips, & 1/2 a doughnut. It made my heart happy. Had it been up to me, I would have probably skipped lunch.

here we go?

[source]

bread making

During my year in MN, I lived with a sister who baked bread. I looked forward to the days when I walked in the door and could smell fresh bread. Near the end of my time there, she taught me how to bake it and gave me a copy of her recipe. It was the first time that I knew someone who took the time to make bread. Heck, it was the first time that I knew/lived with people who canned food & only the second time I lived with someone who made meals from scratch.

ingredients : step one 

Last weekend, my SD reminded me that I need to remember to take time for myself. I scoffed at her and said something along the lines of, "but I do." Nevertheless, I promised her that I would take some time for myself on Monday. As I was falling asleep last night, I thought about this bread. I had asked another volunteer for the recipe last week (after losing my copy). All I would need to do was run to the West Side Market for cracked wheat and honey.

It was the perfect "time for myself" activity. I cleaned the kitchen so I could start out with a clean slate and laid out the ingredients. I followed the directions and strayed a bit when I knew that it needed something else.

ready for the oven

I waited in anticipation for the loaves to finish baking. They weren't my best, but still delicious.

It was the perfect chunk of time to take for myself - to relax and regroup. Work takes a lot out of me and quiet time is the last thing I want to do when I get home at night. I'll sit on the couch and say, "I should go to my room early & journal," but I rarely do it. Yet, I feel like I'm reaching my breaking point - like I desperately need to take this time even if I feel guilty about not doing something else.

Spending the time baking bread was a good reminder that I don't need to feel guilty about taking time for me. I need to do it for my sanity, for clarity, and for discernment. I think I can manage it. (Although, I don't think I have in the past week). It's a work in progress.

finished product