Looking back at my letters to the world so far, they feel pretty heavy. They aren’t light and fluffy. But I am not at a light and fluffy time of life.
It is heavy, it is dark sometimes and by gum, is it not easy. If we are to write from the heart and find connection in this honesty with others, it is perhaps, just as it should be.
What women in her fourties is dealing with light and fluffy, I wonder?
But, that said, I wanted to take a moment. To recognise some truly good stuff. Our brains can get so very used to responding and recognising the danger and bracing ourselves for the next bomb that life is getting ready to throw our way , it can be difficult to really lean in and savour the good, in the NOW.
So I want to share some good stuff with you, if that’s ok.
Just over 6 months ago, I felt as though I was losing the light within, in every sense. I couldn’t see a way out, a way through.
I felt without hope.
Now, here, in this moment, I find myself in a very different place. (I will go into more in another post how and why we got here.) But just over two weeks ago, we moved house. From a busy main road, to a 1950’s unmodernised cottage that backs onto a field.
Several people had come to see it before us and we took our time, thinking it was out of our budget. They saw too much work. I saw a dream come true.
We have no grand plans, to extend, to knock through, to modernise. It currently has no central heating, you have to fire up the raeburn for that. And there’s no cooker, you have to fire up the raeburn for that too.
But still it is a dream come true. I wake up every morning to this view.
I watch the sun come up and later, the moon rise in the sky, I say hello to the geese that fly over daily, I watch the little birds scurry in and out of the hedgerows. I drink my green tea in the garden and am surrounded by nature, it is blissfully quiet.
It is nothing short of a miracle that we made it here, there were so many obstacles that came along and made it almost nearly not, several times over.
I will be forever grateful to the fact that it did happen.
That we are here.
That this is our home.
My nervous system is no longer in flight or fight from the moment I wake up till I go to bed. My home is now a haven of peace.
And I have found hope again.
It is true that you just never know what is around the corner but isn’t it wonderful when what is waiting for you is something beautiful.
And I can’t help but think that all the tough times we have survived, all the holding on by the very edge of our nails, perhaps makes this shiny moments, shine with the all the rays of a hundred sunsets. And I think, this might just be what joy feels like.
To anyone reading this feeling without hope. Hold on. I hope that a beautiful and unexpected surprise it waiting for you too. And for anyone that has some joy of their own to share, I’d love to hear x
So important to hold onto the hope 💜 Your new home sounds glorious! At the moment, I am so grateful for my garden. That I planted lots of lavender which is frequented by bees and butterflies. That I have a space where I can sit and breathe. I can tune out the noises of the road, the railway, the airport, they're just background. I need this space x x