Tuesday, 24 July 2012

The zen of shelling peas

So yesterday, we picked a colossal amount of peas, or so it felt.  Everyone was hot and sluggish.  And something needed to be done with those peas so they didn't go to waste.

I had the privilege to enjoy about an hour of uninterrupted pea-shelling time to myself.  Outside, in the shade of our porch, with a lovely view and just enough breeze to make even a sweltering day feel comfortable, I sat and shelled.  I noticed how my posture changed gradually, from industriously leaning over my collection of buckets to more of a recline with my feet up on the coffee table.  I thought about getting up to take of picture of what peace and calm and bliss looked like, but I knew it would have spoiled the mood.  And I didn't quite know where I had left the camera.

And all the deep thinking I did...ahh, it was lovely!  Thoughts of someday having enough land to actually grow enough peas (and corn, and potatoes, and tomatoes, and...) to feed our family.  Thoughts about fully being in the moment and enjoying even the tasks that at first glance may seem boring and repetitive.  Thoughts about what my little girls' eyes are telling me when I look into them - it feels some days that I could stare into them forever and not quite put my finger on all the intricate workings going on.  Trying to describe that feeling going on in my own being as I shelled away.  Was it simply "content"?  Was this "happiness"?  Was this what "bliss" feels like?

I'm still reeling in the afterglow of that wonderful afternoon shelling peas.  Here's wishing you and yours a glorious day!

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