As well as simply relaxing, enjoying the company of my family and eating my own body weight in chocolate, there was something significant that happened to me this holiday. I realised that I am home.
That may seem obvious. You may be thinking “Emmalina, has it really taken you two months to notice that you are now living in the house that you built yourselves? Have you been at the liqueur choccies again?” And yes, that is a fair point. But the difference is this, my head knew that I was home but my heart didn’t. I couldn’t quite settle in, relax, really enjoy. I would find my mind turning to the next move, wondering if I should unpack this or that or rearrange a room the way I’d like it. I am so used to avoiding these things because it simply isn’t worth it that these behaviours have become ingrained. The feeling of being temporary has become my normal state of being.
That changed on Christmas Day. I was sitting by the fire, wearing my lovely and extremely comfy new sweater dress and looking at a sewing book, when I suddenly realised how happy I was feeling. Utterly content and filled with joy. This shouldn’t be an unusual feeling on Christmas Day, but it was more than just the presents and the kids having fun and the access to pounds of chocolate. I felt at peace. Looking around it was as if a film had been lifted from my eyes, everything was coloured by my blissful happiness. Around me I saw everything I could ever want, need and love.
This feeling has lingered, the initial euphoria has worn off but I am now feeling more grounded, rooted in my surroundings. I am making plans, thinking about the future, reading farming blogs with a new excitement, plotting many sewing projects in my mind. I have a feeling of confidence and excitement, a focus and enthusiasm that I can finally inject into my own life. After a decade or more of dreaming we are now in the stage of being able to put our energy into making our imaginings real.
It is appropriate to be thinking this sort of thing at the turn of the year of course. The new year dawned with the new sun and I always find myself dwelling on thoughts of the future over the christmas tide. With Stephen here I have time to plan and muse, research and fill my brain with information. I have a partner to bounce ideas off and a supporter in moving around furniture, building shelves and general rearranging ready for the post holiday new beginning. I am ready to work on what we have now, refreshing, reorganising or simply leaving as it is; we have nowhere else we need to go, nowhere to be or rush to.
Nothing has really changed, yet everything feels different. Of course it is just me that is different, or perhaps just the way I see things. It’s as if I’ve reached out and grasped my life, it feels solid under my hand and I am wondering what I want to make out of it. I am ready for the activity of the spring to come, the summer of work and hopeful abundance; right now that is many snowstorms away but the winter months will give us time to plan and scheme.
In the mean time here I am. Going nowhere, not if I can help it. As the icy snow whips horizontally outside my windows I feel content to be here, knowing there is nothing better ‘out there’, no other wonder than can beat this life. Here I am, and here I stay.