Loamy soil and lumpy bread

Last night I got to have dinner with two old friends in LA. We drank wine and shared funny stories and quickly tried to catch up on each other’s lives. I love that modern travel makes it possible to do this occasionally with people who live on the other side of the country. 

It was a Thursday night in a busy, tiring week for all of us. He’d been on a shoot for work all day. She’d been working in Chicago earlier in the week. Which made me all the more grateful that they came and lingered over crusty bread and salty charcuterie. 

I’ve been reading a book called Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist, and it’s a lot about prioritizing times like last night. I forget to do that sometimes. Sometimes the things that should be the most meaningful end up being things I do to check an imaginary box. Here’s a passage I read this morning that I especially loved:

If perfect is plastic, present is rich, loamy soil. It’s fresh bread, lumpy and warm. It’s real and tactile and something you can hold with both hands, something rich and warm.

My 4 AM wake-up call for my flight this morning felt a little extra hard. But totally worth it for last night’s loamy soil and lumpy bread.

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