Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Old Shirt

It's true. That's all it looks like. Some farmers shirt from the 1970's. But it is more than that. Much more. It's a reminder to us that there is a home for us. Neither T nor I, feel complete in Phoenix. We feel better about being here now that we have each other, but never quite at home. Tris wore this shirt on our first camping trip. We hung it on the closet door for months after that trip and subsequent trips. Why? Because it smells like home. It smells of campfire and wood chopping. It smells of fun and peace. It smells of the woods and each other. 

When we hit a rough patch, we go back home and if we can't go home, we talk about it, we take out the shirt and we smell it until the peace comes back to us. The shirt has more of a history to Tris. She looks absolutely beautiful in it. I took it out today to smell it. Although the smell of campfire has since dissipated, I can still imagine it. I need to go home. The woods and the tent are where I undoubtedly belong, but I also need to find more beauty and comfort in my urban surroundings. 

On that note, it is my goal for this blog to take you on the path of our journey to simplicity. A part of living simply is finding peace in my surroundings and because my surroundings are urban Phoenix, I am determined to find solace and beauty in what I am given. If all goes as my brain has planned, I will begin to take photos on my daily excursions to show you all the grace that abounds. For now, just a picture of us at home. 

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