We talk about the togetherness of camping and the memories it creates.
Roughing it seems like a right and natural thing to do with a boy.
And so we find ourselves researching places to go in the nearby Adirondack Mountains.
Hiking and fishing are two adventures we haven't yet introduced to our boy. And adventures are his delight.
I keep thinking that we're knitting this summer. Memories. Stringing them together, one-by-one, to create a beautiful shawl of comfort.
Going to just one place doesn't sound as lasting or meaningful to me this year.
Less just feels like so much more.
Weekend excursions away seem just right. More natural. More connection allowing.
I've been thinking of times when I was a young girl and camping is a part of those memories, though I can't honestly remember specifics. Maybe we brought our bikes. What else we did in the day escapes my recollection.
Mom, Dad and I were together in those days. With no distractions and just us. Out of the house and the heat, and into a cooler retreat.
The years when my family and I camped were before I was interested in boys and hadn't yet realized there is more to life.
Now, my boy asks for Disney World and Paris, France at once. He hears of places and exclaims his interest of going there, wherever it is. The world is bigger to him than it ever was to me. At least it seems that way.
The simple is hard to contain.
Our days are so much busier and fuller. Children have more choices and distractions. Families are challenged to find time together that isn't rushed.
I just want to slow this summer. And get back to nature, where we take time to notice the sunset and the crackle of the fire.
It's been my goal in mothering not to miss my boy's growing up.
I don't want to look back and wonder where all the years went and how it escaped me.
I want to be present. Fully engaged with this life. These days. Deliberately crafting memories.
Living laser focused on the Now.
And so, this summer, in its busyness for the boy, we're choosing the s i m p l e. The serene.
Less will be more. It is more. It always will be more.
We'll be filled. And yet we won't. Always craving more of this togetherness, these memories, these days.
Thank you, Lord, for leading me to the slowed down simple life. Show us your heart in this place.
...how we chose to derail our structure for simple...
...more opportunities for going away at less cost...
...how our planning tugs at my grooms memories of his childhood...
...the crafting of our own story of togetherness...
...how it feels like a scavenger hunt to find time to go away...
...finding the gift of nothing planned...