Last night all 3 of our cats slept in bed with us. My dog refuses to, so we set up an ottoman against the bed and that’s where he sleeps. I can’t tell the joy it brings when my bed is full and cozy with little creatures. We went to the park yesterday and looked at trees. Loren really wants to dig one up to use for his bonsai. We are always on the hunt. His mom stopped at some bonsai nursery in Georgia and Brian bought her a tree so that Loren could teach her. My little bonsai master. I don’t know what we did to deserve all these beautiful days in a row but I’ve learned to accept, appreciate, and leave the questioning out of it. It’s a beautiful day to have a beautiful day. In my real, physical journal, I only have 10 pages before it is completely full. I’ve never done that before. My ability to commit is absolutely growing. I can’t wait to start my new journal- the feeling of a blank slate. I’ve had my current one since 2015- and I have documentation of drug use and sadness there. My counselor is so impressed that I kept track- however sporadically. It’s strange and slightly uncomfortable to read it but I do sometimes anyway. The progress is beyond my comprehension. I am new in so many ways. Yes I’m changing. Everything is. It always is, but this time I have a definite direction I’m moving towards and goals that I can reach out and touch. I don’t think it’s wrong to be proud of yourself, the issues arise when we take our pride too seriously and punish others with it.
I feel like myself. What a concept. What a statement. What a time to be alive. In love. In love with myself. Able to trust myself. It had been so long, I’ve been so many people. And who I am is about to change again- maiden to mother. I embrace these changes warmly because I know I am where I should be, want to be, an happy to be, feel grateful for being. The gratitude is becoming familiar- a way of life rather than something I remind myself of. It is all temporary so I choose to be here now. Completely. Complete. And then completed.
The flowers are dying and the trees are preparing themselves for the season. Summer isn’t over yet but it is clear now that it won’t last. The trees look so beautiful in the fall. My baby will be a fall baby. Which means that by summer they’ll be big enough for some adventures and exposure. I can’t wait to meet us, as we’ll be, then. But I can. It isn’t much like waiting anyway, just living with the knowledge that beautiful things will greet us in the future.
Everything is beautiful. It’s allowed to hurt.