I admit. I’m tired.
A few nights ago, a friend asked me what I had done during the days just before seeing her, and I honestly paused in disbelief because I couldn’t quite remember.
With the over-worked and over-connected world in which we live in, it’s no wonder more and more of us are seeking pause and refuge. And refuge as derived from the French word meaning “to flee.”
I was speaking with a HR rep who said she, and her 50 person fund-of-funds firm (with oh, just billions in assets), had been practicing a Japanese act of purging excess (aren’t we all just a little ironic?)
She says the practice asks you to sit with something you own to determine whether or not you absolutely LOVE IT because if you don’t LOVE IT, it challenges you to purge it instead.
I thought how fascinating it is that every culture has a practice to convey the same thing: the desire for less and meaning.
For me, Danish hygge is just that. A practice that is linked to the idea that real wealth is not what we can accumulate over time but what we have to share with others, and only if we LOVE IT.
I had an opportunity a few weeks back to disregard my iCal and jump in a rental to simply be with friends. Some of them I hadn’t seen in years. Others, only via Facetime.
Was it an easy decision? No. I thought, but what will it cost? How will I get back for my appointments on Wednesday? Do I have the right shoes? (Really)
And then I paused and thought of each of those familiar faces I hadn’t seen. And how much I LOVE them.
Life goes by so fast that, if we’re not careful, we miss it.
I will never forget that one weekend spent learning about farm and field and moving cattle in the afternoons. Feeling the mug in the air from an early summer coming.
Early evenings cooking food together and honoring their sources. Laughing and playing until our eyes were closing and sleeping in until you could smell the coffee brewing.
The taste of fresh cow’s milk. The smell of crimson strawberries. The scare of ticks on our skin.
That weeping willow.
The sweetness of old memories.
The looking forward’s