the wheat princess

A Curated Life or A Curated Feed?

Central Massachusetts

What I See and What I Want

Like most anyone, I have a love/hate relationship with social media. I love the relationships and connections made. But I dislike the impact social media can have on my heart and mind. Scrolling through what looks like endless happiness and success online can start to rub and blister my own reality. One of the things I wrestle with the most is wanting my life, home and family to look like the pictures I see. Right now.

I want the newly remodeled house with all the right decor. I want to take all the trips, share all the happy memories and capture all the cherished photos today. Give me all the cool stuff and experiences. I want a life that looks good online and I want it right now.

Do Your Blooms Have Roots?

But here’s the thing: A curated feed is not the same as a curated life. I can have a beautiful life on social media with lots of little boxes looking just so. But what motivated those images? Did I share out of an abundance of life already lived and created over time? Or did I plan and create the experiences for the sake of the images?

I can plant and grow a garden, harvest some of the colorful buds and display them in a vase on my kitchen table. Noticing how lovely they are, I might take a photo and share it online. Did I grow the garden to take the picture or take the picture because the garden was so lovely? There’s a fundamental difference between the two. The first is a life created for the sake of sharing. The second represents a life already lived well for the sake of living; the photo is simply shared out of abundance. Though both lives and images look the same, the underlying motivation changes everything.

Live Life First

Henry David Thoreau said:

How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.

If I catch myself doing something for the sake of sharing it online, I should stop. A life lived well is worth sharing; but a life lived for the sake of sharing is bound to disappoint.

For example, I love decorating my home. When I finish a room, I see nothing wrong with sharing a picture online. But if I’m hurrying to make a room look just so for the sake of sharing an image, I’m no longer living well. While I can run to Target and buy all the things that make my house look a certain way, doing so doesn’t really make my house feel like home. What makes my house feel like my home is the life I live and build here over time. My favorite decor isn’t anything from Target but the stuff I’ve curated over time through real life adventures.

Curating Memories

The water color of the Eiffel Tower hanging in my bedroom not only matches the paint on the walls, but more importantly, it reminds me of the day I bought it in Paris. Looking at that picture takes me right back to exploring the streets of France with my husband.

In our bathroom we have a painting of the Ponte Vecchio bridge in Florence, Italy. When we were in Florence, we’d leave our apartment on Via Maggio and cross the Arno river through the Ponte Vecchio. So when I found this painting of the bridge in a Florentine paper shop, I brought it home as a reminder of a real place where real memories were made. Can I purchase a similar picture online? Yes, I’m sure I can. But this piece of art hangs as a memory and not just something to complete a room for the sake of sharing an image.

Do I buy art at Target too? You bet. But my point is this: I want my real life and home to be the thing I work hard to curate — not just the images I share online. If I do share something, I hope I do so out of abundance and not simply for the sake of the images.

Posted in Ponderings: Thoughts & Questions
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A Whimsical Getaway

Eureka Springs, Arkansas

Staying In

Years ago, I heard about treehouses you can stay at in Arkansas. Even with all the adventures we’ve had overseas, those treehouses remained at the top of my list. So this year for our anniversary we finally made that happen. We spent three nights in two different treehouses and absolutely loved it. Honestly, this ranks as one of my favorite vacations ever.

Bungalow Treehouse

Treehouse Cottages are quietly nestled in the woods in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. In fact, even with directions, we had a little trouble finding them! The owners did a great job of situating each treehouse where you have privacy and a quiet place to hide away… perfect for an anniversary or honeymoon.

Lofty Lookout Treehouse — Our Favorite!

Going Out

I didn’t know much about Eureka Springs but it turned out to be a super fun place to visit. It was just big enough to feel like we saw everything we wanted to in the four days we were there.

As its name suggests, Eureka Springs is built around its many natural springs which were once thought to have healing powers. Magical or not, the springs are very pretty and we enjoyed hiking around viewing them. The most beautiful and impressive is Blue Spring. At 500 feet deep (that’s right, not a typo!) this spring flows up from the ground in a gorgeous teal blue. The color and clarity reminded me of the waters in the Caribbean.

We dipped our feet in to test those healing powers 😉

What to Do

Thanks to its roots in natural healing, Eureka Springs maintains an earthy, natural, boho vibe. We enjoyed meandering through the many artsy shops and one of my favorite finds is some unique boho jewelry (a rose quarts bracelet, a feather and crystal necklace, a delicate leaf necklace and a leather cuff with the Arkansas state flower on it… all affordable costume jewelry but just exactly my style).

Above is our favorite local coffee shop — Eureka Daily Roast. We tried the iced caramel latte, iced caramel macchiato and an affogato — all awesome!

The Best Part

As much fun as we had trying restaurants, shopping and exploring the town, my favorite part of the trip was simply hanging out in our treehouse. We’d come back after a few hours out and just sip iced coffee on the porch or take in the treetop view from the panoramic windows around the jacuzzi.

This season of parenting little ones is intense. I love our kids and I love our whole family together, but I’m also really thankful for the times Darren and I get to spend just the two of us. After eleven years of marriage, I’m no less in love and if anything, I enjoy being with him even more. We call each other “adventure buddy” because we really are — both in life and in our occasional travels. How thankful I am for him and for the life and love we share. God is good and I never want to take it for granted or forget what I gift it is to be happy in marriage. I love him and I like him and I hope we have many more years and adventures side by side <3

FIELD NOTES:

Treehouse Cottages

165 West Van Buren Eureka, Springs, AR 72632

$169 – $189 a night

Visit Treehousecottages.com for more info and booking

From the Website:

“At our ‘Hidden Forest’ location are four treehouses tucked away in a 33 acre tall pine forest. The ideal place for complete seclusion, enjoy the canopy of lofty trees amidst the quiet sounds of the woods.”

Posted in Adventures: Travel & Doings
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Memories of Home

Neosho, Missouri

Last week we visited my parents in Missouri where I grew up. How fun it is watching my children enjoy the same things I most loved doing as a child. Many of my childhood days were spent beside the creek or on top of a row of hay bales. I was always outside stretching my limits and imagination. Last week, I watched my son as he learned to climb onto the hay bales and jump from one to the other after his cousins’ lead. This photo of them is the very sum of my childhood days growing up in the Midwest.

Now the smell of hay takes me right back to my roots and intertwines deeply with my sense of home. In fact, I told Darren I loved him for the first time in a hayloft overlooking the fields where I grew up. That loft was a sacred space for me where I prayed and worked out much with God over the years. So it made sense to whisper words of love and beginnings there. We commemorated that moment with a photo of Darren and I snuggled on a hay bales — quite similar to the photo above. Only now there are two little people sandwiched between us as we write our family’s story.

Home is in our roots. Perhaps the roots of childhood, yes. But more even more, the roots we establish today in our own homes and families. I don’t know what will trigger childhood memories for my children. Growing up in New England, it will likely be the salty smell of the ocean or the way the leaves smell come fall. Whatever it is, I hope our family’s roots run deep, anchoring us to each other and calling us back to what matters most.

Posted in Adventures: Travel & Doings
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Wingaersheek Beach

Gloucester, Massachusetts

Even after all these years, it’s strange to think my children are growing up as New Englanders — the ocean at their feet, the mountains at their back. The prairies are all my heart ever knew as a child.

Will they remember these childhood days beside the sea? Will the salty, pungent air of the ocean bring them back to days exploring the coast side-by-side? When I smell hay or wheat, I think of home. How strange it is to know their memories and reminders will be so different from my own.

Today was our first time this summer beside the ocean. A day in the sand and sun exploring a new place with old friends. A day when my children ran always in opposites directions and kept me busy watching over each of them. A day climbing rocks, testing the waves, and stretching ever more beyond me in their independence and courage. So many days of motherhood are spent longing for my own seemingly lost independence. And then there are days like to today when I remember they won’t always need me beside them.

This is the ache of motherhood. The longing to see our children grow and change and to move on to the next thing. But also the heartache of looking back and knowing they won’t ever be this little again. They will never again need me quite as much as they do today. And though I am tired and though this stage of motherhood is so very intense and hard, it’s harder still watching them grow up and away from me — just as they should, just as they must. May I remember this on the days when I want to move faster and accomplish more. Babies don’t keep so keep them close while you can.

FIELD NOTES:

Wingaersheek Beach

Gloucester, MA

At the end of Atlantic Street off Rte. 133 and Concord Street

$30 parking fee

Visit gloucester-ma.gov and look for “Wingaersheek Beach” for more info

From the Website:

“This beautiful beach runs along the Annisquam River and Ipswich Bay. At low tide, the beach extends out for hundreds of yards and a long sandbar is exposed making for a great place to walk.”

Posted in Adventures: Travel & Doings, Seedlings: Children & Motherhood
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Midsummer Morning

Central Massachusetts

July 1st. Today we stretch our arms into the heart of summer. I rose early, early enough to watch the sun and dew transform a million blades of grass into a sea of dewdrop diamonds. I watched the fog curl from the stream towards the sun in shimmering bands of light and mist. Morning is magic, especially a midsummer morning just after the rain.

We wait all year in New England for these elusive summer days. It takes nearly all of June to fully shrug of winter’s edge. And then, somehow, you wake up on a July morning with the sun on your skin and know you’ve but a few short weeks to take it all in. So we trek to the ocean to taste the salty kiss of summer. We visit every quaint New England burger stand and eat all the soft serve ice cream for dessert. We take to the trails and the woods and find our place to camp in the hills of Vermont.

By next month, we’ll be thinking about school. By September, fall will whisper all around us in cool breaths of change. But today, on July 1st, it is summer. And summer in New England is not to be mocked.

If the last decade in Massachusetts has taught me anything, it’s how to live right now. Winter is long and simply waiting for it to pass will do you no good. You must learn to live as fully in February as you do beside the ocean in July. So you perfect your favorite hot drink and build a roaring fire to sip it by. You go outside in the snow wearing all the clothes (and they are many) to stay warm enough in the cold. You learn to match winter’s stubbornness with your own and come to appreciate the stubborn New Englander’s grit and resolve.

And when summer comes, as summer always does (though you may doubt it in March), you learn to go outside and live. For summer is a breath and a kiss and gone yet again.

Posted in Haberdashery: Odds & Ends, Ponderings: Thoughts & Questions
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