Sometimes, I can fall into a trap where I feel like I’m doing the same thing every day and not really getting anywhere. When the dirty dishes in the sink magically replace themselves overnight, when the kids and I are having the same argument that we had yesterday and the day before and the day before that, or when I just don’t feel inspired by my work—it’s easy to feel like I’m on a hamster wheel.

And late winter/early spring can be a tough time to find a lot of meaning or specialness in the day-to-day. It’s too cold to get my hands in the dirt or to spend leisurely time at the pond. No big, fun events are planned, or even on the horizon. One cloudy gray day after another helps to repeat that Groundhog Day feeling. I’m running around trying to get as much done as possible, only to wake up the next day and do the same things all over again.

So my new intention is finding the sacred in the mundane. I stumbled across that phrase recently and it really stuck with me.

Christina here, writing to remind myself to appreciate it all.

Here are the little mundane things that have felt sacred to me lately.

Watching the sun move across my living room floor. Our house faces south with big windows and has great passive solar. This means that in winter, when it’s cold outside and the sun is low in the sky, the sun reaches all the way to the back of the living room wall. On the precious days when I have the house to myself, I can sit and work at the table and see the sun progress across the floor. It’s a nice reminder that I’m tied to the seasons and the time of day, even if I am indoors.

Pouring a cup of tea from my insulated water bottle. I’m a big fan of the special drinks. I move from matcha to herbal tea, back to matcha, back to herbal tea, and to a glass of wine before dinner, and back to herbal tea at night. I’m not sure why pouring tea makes my special drink even more special; maybe it’s taking a second to watch the steam rise, maybe it’s the sound of the liquid pouring, or maybe it’s just that I feel warm and cozy. But I am trying to take a few seconds each time to enjoy this mini ritual.

The sun on my face when I hang laundry. Laundry day can feel super frustrating. The amount of time that it takes to find clothespins, get a spot on the communally shared line, and hang every single T-shirt, lone sock, and pair of underwear for a family of four is mind-boggling. So since I’m going to be there anyway, I try to take that quiet time to slow down a bit. The cool winter wind and the sun on my face always feel good, and so I am trying to enjoy this privilege of having enough time in my day to do laundry the slow way.

The prairie grasses in later winter. At this point in the year, the prairie grasses are past my shoulders in some places. They’re also this beautiful golden brown color which, when contrasted with a bright blue sky, is really something remarkable. As we have a dog who needs a lot of exercise, I do spend plenty of time out on the land all year round. But I am appreciating that the way the prairie looks right now is special to this time of year. It won’t be like this forever, and that’s kind of sacred too.

Big skies and bright stars. As someone who grew up basically in the woods, I really like the big open skies of the prairie. And the brightness of the stars on a clear night never gets old. These days, Jupiter and Venus can be seen in the western sky after twilight. I’m thankful that living a life that gets me outside for my day-to-day events means that I look at the night sky. Also, since we live so far from just about anything, we have practically no light pollution at all around here.

The sounds of roosters, coyotes, birds, wind, dogs barking, wind turbines. As I walk to get milk from the dairy fridge, or ingredients for dinner, or walk to another meeting on the other side of the village, I am trying to take some time to listen to all the sounds. Hearing roosters and coyotes on a daily basis is a lovely reminder that I get to live in this place that is so close to so many natural things. Even though I might feel the push to listen to a book to be more productive with that time, I am trying to find the sacredness in the everyday sounds around here.

Squishy, muddy paths. Don’t get me wrong—there is plenty to hate about mud season! But as I take my aforementioned dog on his walk of the day, the muddy paths remind me of the fact that I live a life that is connected to the seasons. Yes, this means dealing with ice in the winter, mud in the spring, humidity and heat in the summer, and boots that are soaked through sometimes. But again, it’s sacred because it’s mundane; special because it won’t last forever.

For someone who can get bored pretty quickly with the day-to-day, it’s not always easy to remember how lovely my day-to-day really is. Yeah, life at Dancing Rabbit can be pretty magical at times.

Christina Lovdal Gil

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It’s easy to get lost in day-to-day demands and let life dictate what we do. Then, every so often, a moment of clarity comes. We rise above the hustle and the clouds and remember that we are not here forever. When we see ourselves clearly in those moments, our goals and our dreams come into focus, and beyond them we see that we want to make a difference. We want our actions to make life better for others and enrich the world around us. 

Consider joining us May 26-29th for our Women's Retreat where we help you connect with the voice and inner clarity inside you that already knows exactly what you want AND how to get it. Begin the journey toward making your life the one you dream of living.