And time keeps moving

I’ve always been acutely aware of when things bloom. Maybe it’s because I was born when the dogwoods bloomed on Long Island. Or maybe it’s because I shared an affinity for flowers with my dad. Whatever the reason, something stirs in my heart and soul when I see the first buds. And now when I see the flowers appear, it seems I’m also hyper aware of the passage of time and I can’t help but think about where I was in previous years when my roses began to shine.

This year looks different than last in many ways apparent to the bare eye. I try to hide the scars with my too-long hair. The kids are older and one is finding his independence and we’re slowly laying down the stepping stones that we will use as we journey through the rest of our lives together. The coming of this Spring finds my soul changing and growing. It knows where it’s going and has the confidence to try and get there. The years I’m carrying under my eyes have a wisdom and an appreciation for truth and authenticity. Oh and love…this year I’ve learned to love bigger and greater and to tighten the grip on everything I hold dear. And to shed the things I don’t want to remain in the luggage I carry with me.

I wax not-so-poetically about the passage of time and the moments I’d like to press the fast forward button and the moments I etch into my heart. The ever-changing look of the shoreline of my life mixes with the constant presence of the sand and the water that make my foundation. Sometimes I find myself craving a wave larger than the rest to mess with the familiarity of my routine and other times I appreciate the placid hours and the predictability that comes with life and the regularity of changing tides.

As things come and go and look different in ways our heart adores and disdains, the roses keep blooming bringing us the promise of a smile and a place to find some beauty.image

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