Inhabit

I padded downstairs this morning after performing my usual morning ablutions and did some things I could not have imagined myself doing at one time.

I’m changing. As I grow older I’m becoming more settled, more home-focused, more of the person I was meant to be.

At the beginning of 2012 it seemed people were coming up with their own “Word for the Year”. I resisted the trend. But there has been one word dancing around in my mind the past few weeks. So often have I heard it whispered in the quiet of my mind that I felt I must speak it aloud and claim it for my own Word of the Year.

Inhabit.

Inhabit.

This is the year I will inhabit, more fully, my home, my life, my self.

Since I finished my memoir, and find myself in this pre-publication state, I’ve had more time to myself than I’ve had in a long while. I’ve taken time to consider what is important to me and where I want to focus my time and attention. I’ve had time to knit; time to cook; time to plan my garden, and time to start my new gardening blog. It’s felt good. It’s felt right.

My morning activity this morning was evidence of this new found inhabitation of my life.

I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a jar of cooked steel cut oats to take with me to work. On the weekend I prepared a large batch of steel cut oats and portioned it out in mason jars for quick, on-the-go breakfasts for Gerry and I. How gratifying it was to see those ten jars lined up on the counter when I was finished filling them.

While I was at the refrigerator I pulled out a freezer bag that contained the ingredients for BBQ Chicken; I dumped the entire bag into my slow cooker and turned it to low heat. In addition to making oatmeal this weekend, I spent a couple of hours preparing four different recipes and filling eight freezer bags with meals for my slow cooker. The satisfaction I felt as I dumped the bag in the slow cooker this morning reminded me how those hours had been time well spent. There would be no wondering what to make for dinner tonight.

I pulled a container of homemade dog food out of the freezer and put it in the refrigerator. Every seven to ten days I make a fresh batch of food for my girls. It’s become a ritual that Gerry and I do together–another fulfilling activity.

I turned on the grow light for my newly-sprouted tomato plants and spritzed a bit of water on them. Then I turned my attention the flat of flower seeds sitting on a heat mat across the room and, seeing they had sprouted, removed the plastic cover from the flat.

Next, I turned to the dehydrator on the counter where I started batch of bananas on Sunday afternoon. They were sufficiently dehydrated and, as I filled two large mason jars with healthy banana chips, my mind wandered to my grandchildren who I’m making the chips for. It’s always a pleasure to think about the grands.

Later, as I bent over to kiss my husband goodbye and give the girls a goodbye pat-on-the-head, my eyes longingly rested on my latest knitting project. Tonight, I told myself. I’ll get back to it tonight.

And as I gathered my things and left for work I heard a whisper. Inhabit. And I was content.

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