I have two mentors. They’ve both been like, “So, taking time for yourself,” and this has been a process that has taken a lot of time (*cough* a year *cough*), BUT, this weekend I dutifully marked as “recovery weekend” which meant no responsibilities to anyone except myself (I’m looking at you: job-that-I-love) and therein began a few days that started with dancing on Friday.
There is something remarkably human and satisfying about leaving a dance hall late on Friday night/ early on Saturday morning covered in the sweat of dozens of people, memories marked with good music, smiling people, compliments, a few mistakes, but, mostly, just: expressions of joy and community made with the body. How human. How deeply rooted in theology. Ugh, I could talk about it forever.
And Saturday I went to the library.
I don’t think any of my siblings enjoy going to the library–but I adore it. Shelves and shelves of books full of things that I have yet to learn! Oh my gosh, it’s a thrill.
(As an aside, it does make me a little melancholic that I will never read all of those books of poetry, travel to all of those places that have travel guides, read all of those great classics, learn to make every craft, create every recipe in a book).
And then, on Sunday, I went to the Anna Scrips Conservatory on Belle Isle, a wee island off of Detroit.
I could live there.
It is honestly the closest I have every come to a dream house. Think of this: plants! Warm air! The smells of dirt and life, in the middle of winter!
My soul was fed.
Please, enjoy these few more photos from the giant greenhouse, full of exotic plants and desert plants and (even!) an ant that I found, him walking carefully along a brick wall.
