So I picked the word calm for this year.
Calm is lazy afternoons with tea and jammies and books and some form of needlework.
Calm is not having to referee the 500th squabble between siblings while trying to get everyone out the door in the morning.
Calm is slowly picking away at the little projects that we have going on around the house.
Calm is not brainstorming the 1,687 different things that need to be done to the house right. this. very. second. because. I. just. want. everything. to. be. FINISHED.
Calm is one (maybe two) visits with friends throughout the week.
Calm is not scheduling social obligations every single day – sometimes even two in one day!! – when you are the definition of an introvert.
In the battle between life and intention – life is winning. It has not been calm.
But…
I negotiated a rocky morning without raising my voice.
I am getting comfortable with the idea that a beautifully maintained late 19th – early 20th century home, with a big yard, a multi-car garage, in our choice of neighborhood, and within our price range may just be a pipe dream. (You’d think I was asking too much.)
I saw a friend I haven’t seen in over a year, celebrated a loved one’s birthday, laughed that potato chips and crumbling rice cakes are perfectly fine meals when you haven’t gone grocery shopping in two weeks because grocery shopping when it’s almost February feels a little bit like going to war. (That conversation was a balm to my soul). Later this week I will support an organization I love, chatter and knit, and eat fried pickles (though sadly not all at the same time).
Life is not calm but somehow, I’ve managed to be. (Mostly, anyway.)
Which begs the question: could this whole woo-woo word thing actually have some merit?
Either way, I scheduled some tea and jammie and knitting time Saturday (just as soon as I’ve finished the errands and basketball games.)