Friday, November 5, 2010

Breathing In, Breathing Out

I don't care how long you can hold your breath under water; eventually, you gotta come up for air.

I love being a mom.  I consider it the highest calling in life - to shape and mold little people.  But too much up-close work and your eyes get tired and you start to have trouble seeing.  So when Jon came home early yesterday and suggested I take some time to myself...I might have been out the door before he finished his thought.  (Confession: I mighta also been a bit hyped up on leftover candy corn.  But either way, I was excited.)

Three delicious hours all to myself. 

I grabbed my camera, a coffee and drove to one of the quietest places I know around here. 







Lux, I'm tellin' ya.

And I blame Swiss Family Robinson for this, but I think I could live in a tree house somewhere...preferably in a place withOUT tornadoes, I suppose.












I'm a simple girl.  And there's something tailored-just-for-me about a quiet wooded space.  Being covered by so much bigness let's my soul return to breathing in and out. 

And then I noticed these little guys.  Surrounded by crunchy brown and they don't care.  They are just bloomin' and flashin' bright, fuchsia smiles, like they don't even know it's fall.




Icing on the cake of the day?  Dinner with friends.












And, can I just say how beautiful it is that no matter what language you speak, when you hear a good beat, you just gotta dance.



So turn on a favorite song at your house tonight.  Dance.  Breathe deep.  Happy weekending, everyone!

The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention.
Julia Margaret Cameron, British Photographer, 1815-1879.

2 comments:

  1. love it, ang... seriously, love it.

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  2. I'm breathing better just looking at your photos and imagining a busy mommy and wife getting away to BREATHE. I was just commenting to a few folks this week that it should be okay to take an enjoyable break but instead we compete for a busier schedule than the next guy and try to 'one-up' each other and then feel guilty for being the one who read a novel or took a nap. How sad. I'm so glad to put that unfortunate cultural obligation on the shelf!

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