Sometimes, you simply wake up and everything has changed.
A feeling of peace has descended. The rooms in my house are cool and the rain is falling. My lemon tree is heavy with fruit, no matter how much of it I give away. The dark clouds turn white every few days, and the sun comes out.
There’s been a definite shift. The future I longed for is here. It’s so calm it’s almost frightening, after so much turmoil it feels completely exotic, and wholly appreciated like a long awaited vacation.
Simple things like planting flowers, or spending an entire day hanging art at the local library are a joy. I’m making coffee with my French press again, and I’ve decided to plant a vegetable garden this year because I wish to cultivate things like I once did. Packets of seeds sit on my desk waiting to be planted.
Again, I want to make lavender water to spray on my sheets and pillow cases. I want to make cilantro salad dressing, and sweet peas with saffron. I want to sit in my garden and read this summer surrounded by beautiful flowers and the buzzing bees.
Last week, I drove Siena to physical therapy, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. After two major surgeries and five months on crutches, she could take herself, but I missed singing in the car with her, so I went too. It was nice to see her walk through the doors of Children’s Hospital without crutches. Her once angry scars are slowly fading. On this day, it was so relaxing that I fell asleep in the waiting room listening to the rain.
I’ve been thinking about love and how we expect it to be soft and sweet. But, it’s not. Love has teeth and it can bite. It can destroy us, or it can make us stronger.
Love and blessings.
Sydney 