Abundance isn’t a word I use a lot in conversation. It’s a word I feel when I’m stirring up pancakes on the weekend. Or when the only thing on my to-do list is playing with a frog on a summer afternoon. Or when I look around the house and see surfaces covered in debris–a phone bill, Legos, glitter glue, keys, Barbie’s shoes–and wonder why parenthood is just a fancy word for picking up other people’s crap.
Conflict, chaos, anxiety live alongside an abundance of clarity, simplicity, joy. I’m fascinated, even amused enough to want to write about it here.