Each moment. Each season.
By Tess Weaver
When the lovely Iris asked me to write this article a year ago, I figured by now I’d surely be sitting in my cozy cottage, perfectly prepared with a coffee in hand to sit and write about living a slow, intentional life. Let me tell you, my life is anything but that currently. In July of 2022, my husband and I bought 38 acres of land in eastern Tennessee. This land has been our goal for quite a while now, mostly because of the life we’ve craved, and already begun to live. We started shifting our life together in a different, specific direction over the last almost decade together, and all of our small choices have led us to this piece of land—this opportunity to slowly cultivate a rich day-to-day life that gives back to us as we pour ourselves into, and devote ourselves to it.
As I’m sure you’re aware, what we’re doing takes an immense amount of effort and planning. Turning 38 acres of completely raw, never been lived on before land into some kind of little haven for us, two dairy cows, 12 or so chickens and ducks, two dogs, and more to come. It’s a huge undertaking. It’s sacrifice after sacrifice, just to start to get to where we want to be. Some days it’s total joy and excitement that motivates us. Some days pure conviction. Others, it’s just the fact that we’re already past the point of no return.
It may sound like I’m trying to dissuade you from choosing a lifestyle similar to what we have, but that’s not it at all.
I think so many of us have these beautiful aspirations toward a different lifestyle than the one we may be currently living. But what does it take to actually go after that dream? Slow living doesn’t mean acreage or animals or working from home or having a garden or anything else. Slow living is intention. It’s counter to our western culture, which means it will likely be somewhat abrasive to go after. Slow living can be as simple as a simple morning rhythm, procuring some of your food from a local farm, or cooking a meal from scratch. All of which, are quite counter-cultural.
What all facets of slow living has in common though, is sacrifice. I know, cringe. We don’t like that very often. But let me tell you, a lot of the best, most rich and fulfilling things in life are on the other side of sacrifice.
Your sacrifice may not be living completely off-grid with no plumbing, electricity or hot running water for a year and a half (phew). But this last year and a half has reminded me that all of my smaller choices to slow down, to think, to ponder life’s “mundanities”, amounts to something. A thread of a new path forms as you make this shift. It may be a subtly different path, it may be in wild contrast to the current life-path you walk. But each small choice you make to live a little bit slower, a little bit more intentionally, a little bit more, if-everyone-made-the-choices-I’m-making-would-the-world-be-a-bit-better, is like plucking one of those aspirations out of the sky and making it a reality. It is cumulative.
Someday soon, I’ll be sitting in my cozy cottage my husband and I built every inch of with our bare hands, and I know I’ll feel the deep gratitude for the tiniest, slow moments I took over the last couple of decades that led me here, and continue to lead me. As this new moon arrives, I’m not where I thought I’d be. But I’ve stood under every single new moon for the last year. I’ve noticed them all. It’s hard not to when you basically live completely outside, haha. Each one has been a reminder of the shifting of seasons, the way time passes, and the way I long for that to slow. Time doesn’t slow, but I will. I will make the sacrifices to hold onto a little more time. To cup my hands and let it fill. Each moment. Each season.
Prompt:
It’s unavoidable to notice that we are fast approaching the holiday season. We’re really already in it. How can you prepare you heart this November, this New Beaver Moon, for a season that seems to demand we be in a rush? How can we choose to slow down?
Here’s a couple of ideas-
Make a short list of a few traditions you would enjoy, and whittle it down to the ones that feel the most important
A cozy morning routine goes a very long way. How will it maybe look different now that it’s colder and darker out? What would your ideal-meets-realistic morning look like?
