Several days ago Chloe and I drove home from ballet the long way.
We took the Marsh Road.
At least that’s the name that we’ve affectionately given that back road. It’s a little two lane road nestled between marshes and lakes. Farms and homes cling to the shore, perched just feet above the water. In the spring it turns even more amazing — the snow melting causing swollen creeks to rise even higher.
In life it’s easy to keep driving the same way.
Doing the same things. Repeating. Over and over. Get up. Make coffee. Check emails. Unload the dishwasher. Start a load of laundry. Pick up toys. Read a book. Make lunch. Drive here, drive back. Over and over and over.
We need breaks.
A different view.
The Marsh Road starts less than a mile from our home. We just needed to keep driving. To purposely take a little bit more time. Taking ten minutes and making a loop on the normal way home changing it to a day far from just normal.
Time where we got to laugh.
Chloe and I just stared in wonder as our car moved slowly down the road. She took pictures with her ipod touch (these pics are all hers) marveling as the world changed from the frozen grip of winter into springs melting glory. It was her and I. On our own break from the Monday morning ballet drive home.
Do you have your own Marsh Road?
Do you need to take a Marsh Road?
Perhaps it’s not a literal road.
Maybe it’s switching the schedule a bit. Or announcing that for morning snack we’re going to have ice cream sundaes. Or deciding to take a walk when math or laundry or naptime is next on the schedule. Or ignoring the morning dishes and opting to read for a moment instead. Laughing. Enjoying the gift of time in the now. Looking outside. Watching the water. Breathing deep. Living grateful.