the rhythm of home

Two weeks ago, I had the lovely opportunity of spending a week with my dearest of dear friends, Jada, at her home in Texas.  While we were mostly occupied with moving her and her family from an apartment to a new house, chasing her busy toddler around, and bouncing her two-month old, we were also able to have some much desired best friend conversation.  It was a full visit, one that I will cherish for years to come.  

However, while I was away I found myself missing home.  Of course I missed the usual things like my husband, my cat, my funky orange chair, my pillow, etc.  However, it was the other things that I missed that really stood out to me.  I missed funny things, like my sourdough starter and my plants.  I missed my hundred year old, stained wood floors and my (currently frozen) compost pile.  Upon realizing that I missed these odd pieces of home, I laughed.  Can a sane person really miss a jar of fermenting flour??  That's questionable....  However, I came to the realization that it wasn't the actual things that I missed, but rather the rhythm that the work surrounding those things brings into my life.  

I missed the daily task of adding a little flour and a little water to my sourdough starter.  I missed watching the petals of my violets slowly open.  I missed dumping the coffee grounds from the french press into the compost bin under the sink.  I even missed the never-ending task of sweeping up white cat hair from our old floors.  

I realized that these small tasks, that so often fill the small moments of my day, remind me that my home is so very filled with life.  They remind me that while there is often quite a bit of work that goes into the daily runnings of this home, that the work produces a sort of rhythm and that rhythm has a way of grounding me.  It makes me feel connected to the food that I put on our table.  It makes me appreciate the time that it takes for a bud to become a flower.  It makes me mindful about the food that we use and that which we waste.  It makes me so very aware that my home is lived in, and therefore sometimes (or often) dirty.  But most importantly, it makes me realize that life, wonderful life, really does happen in our home.  

And so with these realizations, I've jumped back in and am fully embracing that rhythm, cat hair and all!  And I couldn't be happier about it.