I spend just as much time barefoot as I do in shoes. Today, I walked next door to my sister-in-law’s house on the sun-kissed asphalt. Entering her yard, I knelt on the ground—one knee, then the other— sitting on my bottom, then lowered my head back until it rested on the calloused earth beneath me.
A thought floated in: I’m falling in love with you. That sweet, tingling warmth spread over me as I took in the sky above, the way the clouds appeared to be formed by white dabs from a paintbrush, and the oak trees swaying overhead.
Nearby, a tractor pulling an industrial mower scraped along branches and rocks, making a racket like a garbage disposal with pebbles caught in it. Two dogs zigzagged alongside me in the grass, pivoting left and right before bursting into a game of chase. My sister-in-law, carrying a sack of sweet potatoes, glanced at me and asked, “You sure you’re okay?”
“Okay” was an understatement. I was sensational. I’m falling in love with my life, moment by moment.
And in the simplicity of it all, I find myself at home, in moments that make up the life I’m learning to love.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 