This morning, we drove an hour over the mountains to spend a day with our friends, Erik and Radha. The visit was a marvelous one, replete with deep conversation, dappled sunshine, and idyllic summer activities. We explored Putney's farmer's market, co-op, and community garden, then headed over to Green Mountain Orchards to pick blueberries. After that, we went swimming in a river, alternating between floating downstream in its powerful current, and making our way upstream again, one leap at a time, like splashy, galumphing salmon.
I love Erik and Radha for many reasons, but the one that stood out to me today is their ability to be living reminders of what's truly important. As we sat (post-berry-picking) in the shade of a large tree, unhurriedly staring up at leaves quivering in the wind, they talked about a lesson they'd learned during the yearlong bicycle tour from which they recently returned.
The lesson was to slow down or stop altogether. To sit in the grass or in a hammock, to spend time doing nothing at all. While it is perfectly acceptable in some countries to work hard and then rest well, the dreaded L-word is taboo in our society. How much better our lives would be if we allowed ourselves a bit of laziness. Thanks for the reminder, you two!