Alicia posted a photo of textures on Substack in June and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.
This summer has been overflowing with good things—sun-soaked weekends, full calendars, laughter spilling late into the night. And yet, if I’m honest, it has also left me feeling spent, like a pitcher poured out too many times without being refilled. Our busy weekends have stretched long, causing our normal rhythms to spill over into the week, blurring the lines between rest and hurry.
The patterns of the seasons—both the ones written in creation and the ones we choose for ourselves—never fail to amaze me. They tumble forward like a ball rolling downhill, picking up speed until it seems unstoppable. Summer, in all its brilliance, can feel like that: bursting with life and color, but racing so fast it’s hard to catch your breath.
I wouldn’t trade the joys of this season—being with our people and soaking in experiences—for anything. And yet, woven into that joy is a gentle longing for what’s ahead. I find myself dreaming of fall: the cozy season, where the air cools, routines return, and the pace of life shifts from sprint to stroll.
This idea to look for textures is an invitation to pause in the middle of the whirlwind. A reminder that this season won’t last forever, both in the sense of summer itself and the phase of life I’m in right now. Change will come, as it always does. And in the meantime, there is goodness here too.
Even in the hustle, God’s kindness shows up—in small, almost imperceptible ways. In the moments where I don’t have to choose or plan or decide. In the quiet spaces where I can finally breathe, and remember that I don’t hold my life together. He does. And somehow, that makes both the fullness of summer and the slowness of fall feel like gifts worth receiving.
A few weeks ago, Ali Edwards posted about noticing and the importance of a practice like this during a year like 2020. She gave the prompts of comfort, delight, rest, nourishment, and play and then encouraged us to take photos of each and share them on social media with the hashtag #aeartofnoticing. I loved seeing the perspective of others and participating in this challenge myself, especially since one of these is my word for next year.
Here are the photos and words I shared during this week:
COMFORT
Comfort is my spot on the couch. Comfort is dogs for blankets. Comfort is homemade bread and pot roast and crockpot soup and mac & cheese and meatloaf. Comfort is being wrapped up in a long hug. Comfort is sun streaming across my face. Comfort is a big fluffy comforter and the perfect napping pillows. Comfort is watering my plants. Comfort is warm clothes fresh out of the dryer. Comfort is tradition, and rhythms, and seasons.
DELIGHT
Typically delight looks like deep conversations, hosting all the people, and traveling. There hasn’t been much of that in 2020, so I’ve tried to look for more moments of delight in the small things. Sunsets, cinnamon rolls, art journals, growth, and nuggets of space for quiet and rest.
We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit that changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty. – Maya Angelou
REST
Taking photos of my feet is my regular practice of grounding myself, getting present, and in-the-moment rest. (This is just a reminder to myself that rest doesn’t have to be big. Sometimes it’s taking a pause in the midst of the most full day.)
NOURISHMENT
I felt like I needed a little jumping off point for nourishment, so i checked out the dictionary definition: the food or other substances necessary for growth, health, and good condition.
So here we are, looking up. Enjoying the fresh air and nourishing my mind with the beauty around me.
PLAY
Enjoying this Art Journaling box from Let’s Make Art. Love getting to play with new-to-me mediums and techniques.
I’ve had “visit a sunflower field” on my bucket list and 101 in 1001 list for as long as I can remember and I finally got to see one in person last Monday. Ironically, it was right here in town, and only about a mile from where I lived in college. It’s been open the last two years, but this was my first time getting to go out. This patch seems to have about week-long timeframe where they are in full bloom until when they start to droop, which can definitely be tricky to plan around. Here are a couple photos from our visit. We were lucky enough to make it during golden hour and get to see a bright but beautiful sunset which perfectly set off the the color of the flowers.
When we hunt for beauty, we learn to pay attention. – Try Softer, Aundi Kolber
11 Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it. 12 Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them; let all the trees of the forest sing for joy.
