So here I am, sitting in my sunny spot outside my kitchen. Which, in point of fact, will no longer be "mine" in 7 weeks of so, and if we're being picky the chair might be my favourite spot to sit when the sun is out, but I rarely sit down at all! Still, when the sun is shining, and I find a rare quiet moment it is most definitely my most favourite seat. Shutting my eyes, listening to a bumble bee drone past I could be a child again, in a different garden at a very different time. I'm quite an aesthetic person, finding sounds, smells and sights incredibly evocative and sustaining. Just thirty seconds of imagining a time of incredible simplicity and serenity is sufficient to revitalise me again.
We are busy packing all the items we will not need until we finally move into our new build early next year and I have to remind myself in my haste that material items carry all-to-important sensory meaning too. I can do simplicity, live very well without the trappings of materialistic accumulation but I would not stay happy for long without the little touchstones of my life. This seat has seen me watch my children grow and play, nurse babies and cuddle baby rabbits. Plan menus, muddle through family logistics and campaign strategies (for anyone who tells you running a large family is not akin to a major military campaign is being economical with the truth) and escape the noise within.
Not bad going considering how infrequently it is used - but then that is exactly the point I am making. Filtering everything out except our wind chime tinkling in the breeze for the briefest of spells is quite sufficient to calm the soul. Which is why I will be packing the most obvious of creature comforts during sixth months of minimalist experimentation, but the chair, the wind chime and hopefully some sun this summer will be coming with me.