Musical Soup Eaters

Measured out with soup spoons

The Art of Slowing Down

I have spent a lot of my life feeling antsy, for lack of a better word. There is always a nagging sense that there is something I can supposed to be doing, but I can’t quite put my finger on what that something is. I am so envious of people who have a Calling. They knew from an early age what they wanted to do, and they did it. Interestingly, many of these people seemĀ  to be teachers. But for me, that has never been the case.

A couple years ago, I had a mini epiphany. Maybe I shouldn’t worry so much about what I do. Maybe I should worry more about who I am. And that person, the one I strive to be–well that’s a work in progress.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels like the days and weeks fly by without a lot of introspection. It can be hard sometimes to still our minds, to let the quiet seep in, even in the middle of a noisy and chaotic life.


My four year old loves to paint. Sometimes he tells me that he needs to paint, and I believe him. I recently moved his easel to the kitchen and left his paints out. He ended up working on a painting for about a week, adding a little more each day.

He is a kid who notices everything. If anything in his environment is moved or changed, he’s the first to notice. I don’t. All those details somehow get filtered out for me. When I tell him we’re going to the library, he’ll ask if it’s the red one or the blue one. And I honestly can’t answer. All my brain registers is “library,” and the color of the door or the awning out front is completely lost on me. So when he asked if we’re going to the red or blue library, I had to tell him I don’t know. Mommy doesn’t notice things the way he does.


Spring is finally here, and I’m loving the tulips we planted last fall. A part of me is surprised that they actually grew and bloomed. Although, oddly, only the ones we bothered to put in ground actually grew. The bulbs we left in the garage and forgot about–well, they’re still there.


Every time I walk by this hammock, I think how relaxing and inviting it looks and I am tempted to hop in. I do not know the people who live there, so I’ve resisted that urge so far.

1 Comment

  1. I love this entry, Tara! So beautifully thought and said! Sadly, I am just like you. I never notice things, or if I do, it’s long after it’s newness. T is amazing in his sensory abilities!

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