rooted and rested

I wrote, once, that every season has a smell.
I still believe it.

If I were to characterize the last few months in smells, it would be such a whirlwind. There would be whiffs of bagels from the business school and the musty smell of my Sensei's office.
I would smell paper and eraser shavings...sweaty running clothes and a whole lot of coffee.
Constant coffee, actually.
(Probably too much)

To be quite honest, I probably didn't stop as much as I should have to smell them.

I fell into the lie that busyness is necessary and that unless I'm running around doing something productive, I'm being lazy. 

That's not true, of course. 

I'd forgotten. 

There's wisdom in intentional stillness - there's growth in the quiet. 

I began the New Year purposing to slow down and to reject anxiety and to choose rest.
Effectively, to give myself a break.
I was wiped and refusing to believe it.

I determined to rediscover the art of slowing down and to remember all there is to be learned in the quiet. 

Quiet is quite beautiful, you know.

So far, it's been great. 

I'm sleeping more and seeing more and smelling more (again).

I missed it.

Throughout the process, I'm growing.
And as always, it's a good feeling.

I'm excited for the weeks ahead and the smells they bring because I know I'll be better able to enjoy them.

I know they'll be busy.
There will be 18 credit-hour smells, work smells, volunteering smells, and even some smells from Japan...(Yes, I'm going back friends. Be on the lookout for updates and pictures).

But I'm stoked and ready to sniff up a storm.

Bring it on, Spring 2018.

I'm ready for you...
One day and one smell at a time.

I can't wait to see all you hold.

Love always,

G