As I cut and cooked in my own kitchen, CBC on in the background, I thought about all the times I made this very breakfast in the kitchen at Atangard. Snippets of conversation and the sounds - footsteps on hardwood halls, doors opening and closing, yelled greetings and goodbyes and so much laughter - come back to me easily. But, more than that, the faces of all those breakfasts comes back. Mostly, I remember the smiles, all bathed in that yellow, windowless light, reflected off Ikea cupboards. They almost seem saintly, or at the very least, beautiful portraits in motion. Though I do not exclude myself from feelings of frustration in that same kitchen, I remember the warmth so much more; the conversations, encouragement and nourishment that I consistently found there. Time must be working its magic, because I can think about it now without feeling very sad and with more more thankfulness and joy than longing.
|Into the very kitchen.|
|Marisa and Lisa, in "that atrium".|
|Tiff, Beth and Soph.|
The words to sum up my last couple weeks would be:
"O ye of little faith".
I do not lay this out as a condemnation, but as a present reality and a reminder. I worry a lot. Often, "catastrophe mode" is my automatic go to in times of stress or trouble. A little over a week ago, my computer finally died (at 5.5 years, my MacBook Pro gave me many good years. RIP, girl). It wasn't great timing, with papers and finals on the horizon, and I maintained a relatively calm front for about a day, which then quickly turned to curling up on my bed, crying, railing, pouting, etc. Tim helped me make a plan to get a new computer that was financially viable. I am typing to you on her now.
We've been church shopping pretty hard. Within that, there have been moments of loveliness, sadness, doubt, and awkwardness. I have criticized and appreciated and been both graceful and graceless. Many times, I doubted we'd ever find somewhere that we'd both feel comfortable going. In the last two weeks, we've gone to the same church twice and we'd both like to come back to it after planting and get to know it more. Exciting.
I found a sublet for my apartment, my shower is getting fixed, and I have a really solid shot of getting this paper/project done well. I know things don't always work out and that the world is not a rosy, rainbow place. I think we all know that too well. But, so often I let such small troubles consume me. The kind of troubles that do have solutions and hope of resolution.
We leave for planting on Saturday. I am excited and eager for the season to begin, to see familiar faces and meet new ones. To help Tim. To learn a new job and role. To have energy for encouragement and cheer, which I struggle to find when being head cook. I am excited for it all.
|Shitter hill. Fraser Lake camp.|