Being::In Pursuit of The Good Life

Being: Conscious, mortal existence; life. 

Every month we welcome two families, two people, two voices to share their stories in whatever way they chose. We hope that you find joy in their daily lives, and their simple habit of just being. 

On a recent wintry night while my dad was visiting, I pulled out the box of old, family slides that I have become the caretaker of. There are hundreds of them. We sat, huddled around the lamp in the living room holding handfuls up to the light. Memories of my childhood and our family history filled the room. We laughed a lot, shook our heads at some, marveled over others. We did so many things, my dad said with a hint of longing. The stuff we got up to.

Looking through, I was reminded of my own longing. The longing to live in a place where we don’t hear the traffic; a place where we can ramble without navigating city streets, sirens, and the busyness of people rushing about. It’s no wonder I long for this, after all it’s how I was raised. My parents went in pursuit of the good life (note to editors: please make “good life” in this sentence link to here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helen_and_Scott_Nearing ) and found it. They built for themselves, and for my brother, sister and I, a life rich in fresh air and dirt, open spaces, the homegrown, and the handmade. I find myself forever measuring up my adult life to this, and feeling like life, though I have so much I am grateful for, would be even sweeter if my own little family also went “back to the land”.

With this in mind, I squinted into the light at a slide of myself. I wish I could share it with you. I must be about 8 or 9 years old. I’m standing by our big kitchen table in a woolen sweater. The winter light is pouring in through the old paned window behind me and on the table is lunch- homemade soup (squash?), some crackers and cheese. Beyond it being a photo from my childhood, there was a familiarity about it I couldn’t place. I looked at it for a long time, coming back to it until I realized what it was- the photo reminded me of my own home, the one I live in now. The woolens, the old mason jars filled with beans and grains, the worn cookbooks, the beeswax candles. The essence was the same. Our home is filled with these very things…things, or more accurately a way of living, that I developed a love and appreciation for way back then and have carried with me through to this moment. We may not yet have the land, or the huge garden, but indeed we are building something similar.

Home is a feeling, and it most definitely is where the heart is. With the heart comes the intention, the blueprints of a life. All other things spring forth from the life you set out to create. Home is about how you live, and the efforts you make within your family to create your own “good” life- whether on the homestead, in the condo, the cottage, or, in our case, the 100 year-old house on a street that’s a bit too busy and noisy.

And so, I’ve relaxed a little. The land will come, as will the peace and quiet. We have many wonderful years ahead to plant huge crops of squash and peas, fruit trees and berries. And in the meantime there is so much that is already growing. The other day, Coco, my daughter of two and a half, asked me, Mama, will you teach me how to sew? And when I am older, will you teach me how to knit? Sigh. The foundation is there. We light the beeswax candle every evening. We bake our own bread whenever we can. We grow heirloom tomatoes in containers on our deck. There are mason jars; there are bits of nature- twigs, seashells, moss and lichen- strewn about the house. There is knitting, there is sewing, there is a little one watching and learning and making it her own. She’ll carry these things with her throughout her own life, as I have done, and I know, wholeheartedly, that whether she becomes a banker, or a shepherdess, a doctor or a homemaker, her roots are growing rich in the traditions of our home and the intention deep within my mothering heart.

This is the good life after all, and we are right in the heart of it.

Thank you to Gwen of Barn Raising for being with us all this month. We hope that you will join us every Thursday as Gwen shares her reflections, photos, and words.