We’re in a season of quiet, my man and I. Sometimes, it seems like this tiny, temporary home has been more than a home. In many ways, it has been a retreat for my soul.
Stepping away from internet, the rush and bustle of town, the house planning and money-saving pressure we’ve been feeling, this move was exactly what I needed.
So often, busyness can crowd out the life that I, in my deepest of hearts, want to lead.
I’ve been reflecting. I’ve been thinking about how I lived in our past home and what we want for our future home. I’ve been thinking about the patterns I’ve set for myself.
And I find myself thinking about the company I keep. Oh, and you should know I’m actually not referring to people
I’ve been thinking about the internet. Online games. Music choices. Movies and shows. Reading. What I allow my mind to dwell on, to be consumed by.
Since taking a step away, I’ve been seeing things more clearly. And know what?
I don’t like some of the company I’ve been keeping. Too much of it has been empty fluff, in no way profiting my life. It only served as a distraction from the more important things.
And then there were other instances where some of the company I kept was good, but it was too much of a good thing.
Like when I make a habit of spending an hour or two every day reading blogs and visiting YouTube channels.
When I’m caught up with this blog o’ mine and just need to do “a few more things” after my man gets home from work. A few more things that take longer than they are supposed to and, instead of spending one or two hours with my man in the evening, I end up spending them with my screen.
I’m thinking of the days when I attempted to fill my relational needs with social media, instead of having a friend over for tea.
When it’s written out, it seems obvious that these choices might not be the best. But it’s not as easy to see when you’re living in the moment.
For me, it took moving into the mountains, disconnecting myself from the online world and allowing myself to be alone and bored before I realized I didn’t like some of the company I’d been keeping.
I’ve been sitting here in our tiny living quarters, hauling water to the house, cooking meals without a stove, trekking through the snow to the outhouse, helping build a home and asking myself questions. I’ve been pondering whether or not the company I (usually) keep contributes to my hopes, dreams and convictions. And if I must wave “goodbye” to some of the company I keep, what do I put in it’s place?
It’s been good, this little home. And it’s doing good things for me.