Hey World

Under a layer of soft earth, a little sprout reaches for the warmth of the sun and the brush of a soft breeze. This little sprout is here, alive and growing in this time and place. It is a miracle. A small child is born, a body filled with potential, a life filled with promise. A miracle.

I was born a long, long time ago. My body grew as bodies do, following a timeline of normal progression. My childhood was a mix of experiences, each laying the foundation of knowledge and beliefs. As a child, I saw the world from a child’s perspective. I regarded everything around me with curiosity. Each experience, each touch, taught me something. I learned all lessons well, each making me who I am today. 

My life has had times of growth and rest, ebbing and flowing with the seasons and the cycles of the universe. There were glorious smells of the places, the foods and the things that are anchored forever in my brain, making connections to memories and feelings. There were colors that created a feast for the eyes and sounds that played a soundtrack for my life. 

People have come and gone in my life, each for a purpose. Each person leaving indelible marks on my soul. Places and careers have come and gone. With each new beginning, the thought, “how did I get here? I didn’t see this coming” crossed my mind. My vision and understanding increased in scope and gained depth with each change. Pets and animals have been constant companions and protectors every step of the way. They have offered unconditional love, clear communication, and boundless opportunities for impromptu adventures. 

A perfect storm has twisted, scattered, (never lost) and bonded each experience into the exceptional blossom that is me and my life. With mindfulness, I planned a trip to sort my feelings, to understand experiences, to give myself grace, and the peace only understanding can provide. My trip included quiet and explosive times alone. Possibly sharing too much information with trusted friends and family. On the way to where I am I wrote, I took pictures and painted. Looking around my home and my brain, it is an explosion of colors and feelings. Life, just like art, is a process. You can’t hurry it along. There were moments of travel—brief trips, long hikes and times floating between trees in my hammock, swinging softly, listening to the whisper of the wind and the songs of the birds. With my dogs, of course.

A blossom is a thing of great work, of casting off the old and accepting the new. Of honoring the past, living in the present and holding space for walking bravely into the future, as it becomes my now. I fill my life with authenticity, intentionality, and responsibility. I have claimed ownership of my body and thoughts, and in doing that I have realized safety I have never known in my life. My life is blossoming with a sense of self worth that I have never had, and the fleeting thought that I don’t need to be perfect to be loved. I have forgiven generational trauma. I turned it into fertile ground for growing. Along the way, came the realization that judging past events by the knowing of today is not good practice.

Life is blooming everywhere around me, lifting me up, showing me the panorama of beauty that exists. This time it’s the whole vista, not just one leaf at a time.