My Turquoise Bag

“Il dolce far niente.”
The sweetness of doing nothing.
— Italian expression

There’s something about the final stretch of summer that always makes me reflective. With my birthday landing in those lingering summer days, I tend to look back on the year that’s passed and what it has revealed to me.

There have been plenty of observations, lessons and “aha” moments I’ve jotted down, declared and vowed to remember.

One of the biggest has been redefining my idea of luxury.

To me, luxury is…time.

Time to just be.

Time spent with the people who fill my soul.

Time to do the things that make me feel most alive.

And time to do absolutely nothing.

And by “nothing,” I mean the quiet pleasure of leisure.

Recently, that looked like going to the park with my Mom and reading under the canopy of a willow tree.

Intentionally.

Between brunch and our pedicure appointment, we had an hour to ourselves, so I suggested we bring something to read and find a quiet place to sit.

The idea came after hearing my Mom mention that she wished she had more time to read. She’s an avid reader and it’s one of her favourite hobbies, but somewhere between appointments and maintaining a home, finding the time isn’t always easy.

I wanted her to have one of those little pockets of time, and to spend it exactly as she wanted.

We found the perfect backdrop for our hour of quiet reading: a park tinted with purple cornflowers and woodland sunflowers.

The kind of place Lucy Maud Montgomery might have written about.

We settled at a picnic table overlooking the pond and decided this was where we would stay for the next hour. The geese honked nearby, the willow branches swayed above our heads, and we had nowhere to be but here.

Sitting there, I realized our roles had quietly reversed.

My Mom has taught me so much in my life, from watching her move through the world to the advice she’s given me along the way. From her, I’ve learned hard work, perseverance, strength and courage.

She is one of the bravest people I know.

And because she taught me hard work and strength, I hope I can teach her a little of what I’ve learned: that rest can be joyful, necessary and nothing to feel guilty about.

And so we read quietly, occasionally chatting about Rosamunde Pilcher and Jane Austen between pages. She encouraged me to keep submitting my writing for publication, and we let the morning unfold around us.

Slow living is a philosophy I try to embrace in my everyday life. More often than not, though, I practise it alone.

That day, I got to share it with my Mom. And she happily slowed down with me.

As the glitter of summer fades and the amber of autumn awaits us, I hope the season ahead brings you a few moments to savour the sweetness of doing nothing.

xo 💚