The Whole of Us

I knew it was going to be good but I didn’t know it would be this good.

In a world that measures success by the amount of dollars in your bank account and celebrates busyness, slowing down and resting can feel like we’re missing out, being unproductive and wasting time.  

Somewhere between Seville and Cordoba we had the absolute privilege of spending nearly ten days in the remote Spanish countryside. I know its a big call to say we were impacted after only ten days but the truth is when you’re undistracted, with no internet or television, hot days that force you inside to rest and cool nights that bring outdoor candle-lit dinners, you have to adjust and adapt to a different rhythm of life. 

Our time there left a mark and the experience challenged and changed us.

Far from the nearest big town, the days are slow and often repetitive, but let me suggest that safety and healing can often be found in the mundane and seemingly insignificant. They are found in healthy habits and routine that quite literally slow you down and force you to just be.

Places can do this. People too. One of our most favourite people in the world, Tom’s sister, spent the week with us. You know those people whose very presence has you instantly feeling like home? She is this to us. 

She is safety and love wrapped up in a person. Someone who is unfazed and unbothered by the version of us that shows up. Intentionally loving and creating space for us to just be. A place that has been judgement free. She has protected our hearts and our stories, advocated for us and stuck with us in all of our messiness. In her own vulnerability she has connected with ours and has loved us selflessly a thousand different ways.

The beauty we found on the farm was a combination of the place and the people. You can’t help but be affected when you’re surrounded by people at peace, unapologetically resting and choosing into slowness. 

We spent our mornings collecting lemons and oranges which the girls later made into lemonade and fresh orange juice. They enjoyed baking cinnamon scrolls, cakes and donuts for morning tea before sitting around chatting, reading and painting. Spanish lunches cooked from scratch were followed by an afternoon siesta. 

Late afternoons we’d ride bare back on horses or hike through the hills, followed by no less than eight farm dogs. The evening meal was a smaller but no less delicious affair spent picnicking in the countryside or sitting with candles under the stars, and sipping Spanish wine. 

It would be easy to say ‘oh that was a good time’ but it was so much more than that. It provided deep levels of rest that fostered a new layer of healing on our journey towards wholeness. How successful are we really if we spend our whole life racing through it, burning-out and forever exhausted? What is wealth if not a connected, abundant and present life? 

Is it hard for you to slow down? What is stopping you? What could slowing down for a moment look like?