I haven’t really been able to focus on writing lately, and I am uncertain why this is. I have plenty of ideas and lots to say. In fact, I have a ridiculous number of partially or mostly done posts… but completion just doesn’t seem to be on the horizon.

However, I suspect my apparent lack of drive is not without purpose…

I have only a few short days left of summer before work begins again.

Summer is a fascinating time: what begins as a seemingly endless span of possibility always seems to spin by at light speed.

Perhaps that is at the heart it. Perhaps I am anticipating the stress that is so often the companion to the new school year, and I am wondering if I am relaxed enough to be effectively braced and prepared. Perhaps there is a part of me that is forcing a slow-down, and that is why completion of these posts just isn’t happening.

Leah – just STOP already!

I have a hard time stopping. I like to be busy.

Lately though – I have been so busy that I worry I might be missing out on some of the really important things.

So on Sunday, H and Finnegan the Labradoodle and I headed off to the interior of British Columbia to my parent’s fabulous little ramshackle cabin. Craig was none too sad to see us go; he has some recording dates coming up and he wanted to prep a few more charts and delve into some serious percussion.

He helped us load the car.

When I woke up at the cabin on Monday morning and I decided I was going to focus on noticing the beautiful and wonderous things around me. This is a practice that I know centres me, and I worry and fear that I haven’t been taking the time to make noticing important of late.

H and I went to the lake…

We swam… and I took photos.

One of the aspects that I love about taking photos is that I see the world differently when I am behind the camera. I notice more. I slow down. I appreciate the multitude of blues in the water’s ripples…

…or the light glistening on the droplets of water in the garden.

Or the contrast of the gold against the faded-blue painted boards of the cabin…

I notice the beauty of my child as we read together.

I appreciate small details: like the length of his lashes, or that he is barely clinging to the features of childhood – as he makes the speed-of-summer dash toward adulthood. I want to savor this because I know it will soon be a just a memory, and we will move on to other beautiful moments.

And when I slow down to capture the smallest of details – the benefit is exactly that: I actually slow down.

I’ve spent the last few days enamored with this place… and this space.

I’ve taken the cues from the dog to explore, relax, and just be in the moment.

I am in love with bare feet, moss-rolling dogs, and bumble bees…

and woodpeckers…

and sunsets…

as the moon puts another glorious day to rest…

I will drink in this quiet stillness, and breathe, and remind myself to keep these moments with me and be open to new ones as the new year begins.

It is the moments in my life that make it amazing. I used to be waiting for some big wonderful – but in my experience, there is no big wonderful that will be suddenly arriving. It is the stringing together of all the little wonderfuls, in and amongst the ups and downs, and noticing the sometimes almost imperceptible moments that make my life spectacular.

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30 Days of Autism is a project designed to fight stigma, promote civil rights, and increase understanding and acceptance for those who process and experience the world differently.

©Leah Kelley, Thirty Days of Autism (2013)