Several years back, I began thinking about starting a blog. I imagined I would write about anything and everything under the sun, topics relating to everyday life. I don’t consider myself an expert on anything, only one who aims to be mindful and who tends to be pensive, for better or worse.
I secured a domain a few years later and felt satisfied with that bit of progress for the time being. I’ve held onto it for a couple of years, its existence passively taking up a corner in my subconscious. In recent months, the seed of original thought has begun to grow and it seems the universe declares that now is the time for me to put my musings in ink (so to speak). And since writing about anything and everything under the sun was what I’d imagined, I’ll start just there—under the sun.
On one of my recent early morning walks I noticed some rose bushes in my neighborhood that, not long ago bursting with brilliant beauty, were now feeling the intensity of the blazing summer sun. Beginning to wilt and their deep pink hue turning brown, the flowers seemed in that moment to mirror the exhaustion that I felt deep within.
Let’s be real. Not to mention the typical unavoidable challenges of life, the past year and a half has been difficult for us all. From uncertainty surrounding jobs, school, travel, health both physical and mental, and all-around social upheaval, we’ve ridden the wildest of rollercoasters.
Just a few months before the pandemic hit full force, I relocated, got married, and began life in a new city. While I have appreciated, for many reasons, the slow-down that has come with COVID, it added an overwhelming layer to a life juggling work and school, new beginnings, and children traveling between two households in different states (phew!).
Yes, this past year (and this life) has left me often feeling like that late August rose with its loss of vibrancy and vigor. But only for a moment, as—to quote both Ecclesiastes and the musical, Pippin—“Everything has its season, everything has its time.”
The path of seasons to come stretches out before me, and though it appears to be a fairly straight path, in reality it’s more like an expansive winding labyrinth giving me the opportunity to see both where I’ve been and where I’m going, from an ever-changing perspective.
So, I’m inviting you to read some bits and pieces of my heart and soul along the journey. Because I may be a scorched August rose, but I’m also the fire of summer’s fullness, the gentle falling leaves of autumn, the quiet bare branches of winter, and the ever-blossoming trees of spring. And…I think you are, too.