I found these photos on a never finished blog post from ages ago. I remember this day back on our land. What a sweet time that was. Sweet in its moments, difficult in the big picture. It's incredible how swift change is. When Coco was born I thought it would be ages before she turned five and now here we are on the cusp of it. This writing space was so, so good for me when she was just a babe. I fell in love with writing and capturing the world in moments like these, moments that celebrate very simply the beauty of childhood, of mothering, of forming and nurturing a young family, and of fiercely protecting all of these things from a super-sized world. Sometimes I picture it all like a fairy tale with the world outside our door (enveloped in green smoke) working hard to find its way in, and us inside guarding the archetype of childhood's rightful innocence and slow force of beauty in the world. I'm not afraid of what is outside our door, nor do I want to shelter Coco from it, but I stand for families having the final say in how much comes in.
From the beginning I've talked a lot about slowing down, nurturing the simple, and cultivating rhythms and traditions. It's something I just can't stop talking about. Barn Raising has been about sewing and Waldorf education, and glimpses into Coco's babyhood and toddler years, but it's also been about the ways of the heart. It's been about intention and peaceful gestures in the world.
It's been more difficult to keep up with Barn Raising over the last year. Our family rhythms have grown into something new and I've longed to document it. Our time is more full with activities and responsibilities and, goodness, sometimes the days are long. Still, we work even harder to keep the slow foundations there. Last year there was so much to share, but this year has been very inward, like gnomes in the deep quietly mining the gems. I find myself sometimes wondering about the future of Barn Raising and what direction it is taking, but I continue to trust the matters of the heart and those foundations that keep us afloat.
This August, Coco will be 5, and soon we'll be entering the stage of emerging out of early childhood. I take the time, so much time, to enjoy just where she's at- the flouncy, fluffy white curls, her tiny freckles speckling her nose, the chitter chatter all day long- knowing that in a blink we'll be on the horizon of 6. I know all mothers feel the passing of time as their children age, but when you are blessed with one I would add there's another layer to that...each stage becomes especially fleeting.
Right now Coco is long legs and James Herriot stories. She's an incredible little farmer who's happiest with dirt on her hands and the sun on her back. All she wants for her birthday is a set of real binoculars so that she can go bird watching. She sings and shines, skips, and jumps- everywhere. She nurturing and sweet, and dreams already of her own children. She is forgiving and empathetic, strong and courageous. Our perfect days are filled with pedal bikes, picnics, and beaches. So, yes, journeying forward there is so much to celebrate and share. This time may be fleeting, but in this moment it is everything.