Savouring what is.
Dear reader, I wonder how you are? How has your summer been and how are you greeting the advance of Autumn?
It’s been a while since I wrote and I’ve missed you, missed spending the time to pause and follow a thought. I wanted to share some reflections from our pilgrimage but found it was too early to do that, the summer too full. Reflections are seen most clearly when the waters settle, as they’re starting to do.
On pilgrimage, we travelled by foot and found accommodation as we went. We had no need to rush and enjoyed savouring each day. It was delicious.
Savour - to enjoy an experience slowly, in order to enjoy it as much as possible.
We brought the word home with us and hung over our summer. Our hope, our intention, to savour whatever it held. To relish each day, whatever it brought.
What a simple luxury it is to intentionally slow ourselves down so we may really taste each morsel of life. Some were delicious, others somewhat tart. Often bitter and sweet were inseparable.
Take for instance the incredible weather -
Gathering with others to enjoy the long warm evenings, frequent swims in the sea without feeling chilled, morning breakfasts outside, the cool shade of our beautiful birch tree have been delightfully soft and sweet. Delicious to savour.
Treading, unyielding ground beneath yellowed grass, witnessing lush green leaves curl up and brown, losing our lands’ familiar scents, feeling life struggle has been hard and bitter, challenging to stay with.
Our souls often felt conflicted. It was a struggle to taste both at once, a complexity of flavour we were often uncomfortable with. Like children, our palates craved a simpler taste. Sweet or sour. We’d spit out sour and reach again for sweet. We craved warm evenings and lush grass. In craving the impossible how easy it is to miss the full richness of what is.
In July we put our house on the market expecting it would take a while. It sold on the open day to a cash buyer who was keen to exchange ASAP. Selling was super sweet an outcome I’d barely dared hope for. But our daughters struggled with the speed with which it happened. A complex mix, bittersweet.
Intentionally choosing to savour the summer has helped me stay with what is instead of rushing into what could be. To savour the complexity and bittersweetness of life.
I cannot tell you how many times I have had the urge to pack over the summer, to take down pictures, box away trinkets. But I haven’t. Packing was not going to secure a faster, smoother move. It wasn’t going to ease our discomfort. Packing needed to wait until after contracts were exchanged.
Savouring enabled me to taste the inevitable discomfort of moving and whilst also tasting the sweet notes of time spent with friends and families. I savoured time spent working, savoured tending what still grew in the garden.
In spare pockets of time, we were able to do the caring work of sorting without the pressure of time, acknowledging the emotional effort such tasks require and responding with gentleness.
Savouring has enabled us to take time to appreciate this home and what it’s enabled and it’s connected us to what we will miss which has not always been comfortable. If we’re going to miss those things is moving really the next step?
A very valid question. One that’s needed airing several times.
I wonder what you’re used to savouring? A delicious meal cooked by someone else? A hot scented bath? A quiet cup of tea or coffee? A moment of sun on your face? A fabulous view?
Does a question surface when you savour? Maybe you think – this is so lovely why don’t I/we do it more? Another valid question that often needs more airing!
Perhaps we allow ourselves time to really taste those moments because we know they are fleeting, special.
Perhaps we’ve been particularly able to savour this summer because we knew our time here in this town, in this house, with our girls is limited, fleeting, special?
Perhaps, as our soul’s pallet mature, we become more able to enjoy the more complex flavours of life? Perhaps we’re more able to recognise everything as fleeting and savour our days more fully?
The practice of savouring has taught me to recognise that if what I need is right here. If I haven’t got something essential for doing a task, then that task isn’t really the next step I need to take.
This morning we were lined up to see our rental, to measure up, to chat to the landlord. It didn’t happen, which could have been frustrated and seen me engage in distracting faffery. But I didn’t.
I asked “If what I think I need isn’t here, what’s actually open to me?”
I didn’t need to see the house today. It won’t change much and I still can’t usefully pack. Our security checks need to clear, we need date confirmation from the removal company before we can pay our deposit and get boxes delivered.
The cleared time was gift, free for me to do with it what I will. And dear reader I chose to savour having time to spend with you. And what a delight it’s been. It’s nourished me and I hope you too.
The packing will get done and the move will happen in its’ own time. When that time arrives the task will get done with more energy and enthusiasm, less effort and more joy than I have a tendency to anticipate.
What I needed today was time here with you reflecting on the precious gifts of this word. Time here with this keyboard, in the autumn sun that’s broken through the soggy morning. Time to connect with this precious work I love of exploring a practice to see what treasures it yields. Work that enables me to offer you a quiet moment of reflection.
So, as Autumn advances I wonder how your summer has been? What are you practicing? Are there things you’re savouring? And are you carrying a question that needs some an airing?
I’d love to hear.
As the days cool and the nights advance, may you know that everything you need is here. May you take delight in savouring the complexity of life and the richness it offers.
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