What happens next?

I want to tell you a story about a girl, a girl who does something wonderful. I don’t know exactly what she does yet, and besides thats not really the point, the point is that she does it.

She’s short of time and big of ideas, and she finds it easy to get… comfortable. She finds it easy to dig her toes in to where she is and think it’s perfectly ok. But inside she’s burning a bit too brightly for ok.

She doesn’t ask for much, but she should. She should demand it, because it’s all there for her and it suits her.

She has spent a lot of time accepting things that weren’t what she really wanted and talking about tomorrow…. but she’s beginning to realise that tomorrow feels an awful lot like today, and that she doesn’t want to wait anymore. She’s realizing that this is her time and she’s starting to look at things a little more closely.

She’s examining her dreams, the ones she’s carried around neatly for years and looking at them with grown up eyes. She’s deciding if they are what she really wants and if they’re going to feel as good lived as imagined. She’s asking herself what she *wants*, allowing herself to be selfish because she deserves to from time to time, and asking what she wants to give others too.

She realises when unpacking those dreams that her something wonderful can be all of them or none of them. Her something wonderful doesn’t have to be doing anything grand, it can simply be joy. Here, now.

She is done with brushing her shortcomings under the rug and even more done with feeling guilty about them. She knows that a sprinkling of flaws make a character more believable, and she is a very, very believable woman. But she’s taking one of those short comings from time to time and making a project out of it. She’s breaking habits that have been there for years because she CAN. She’s doing it because it’s hard, and because it feels so good to peel off a layer of herself that was just making her feel heavy.

She listens. To the people she cares about, to the things she may not want to hear, and to her own inner voice that had grown silent from not being really listened to. She trusts it. It’s smart. She’s smart, and she knows what to do to get there, or even just to really be here.

She is not going to glorify busy or slow anymore. She doesn’t have to follow the books or magazines. She has her own pace, her own rhythm and she’s going to embrace it.

She is going to fall in love again, every day. She’s going to fall in love with the things her husband (or friend or children) does that make her feel light. The things that make her laugh or that feel like home. She’s going to be driven mad, as always, by the difficult things they do too, and be grateful for that – because the opposite of love is indifference, and those things remind her she’s not indifferent at all. She’s going to say I love you even when she’s angry, and she’s going to reach out when she’s sad. She will let go of relationships that don’t serve her, maybe not today, but when she’s ready, because she can and the empowerment of that choice makes her feel light all over again.

For all the talk of examples for her kids she knows that the best one is being happy. It’s doing this very thing that she’s starting today; this something wonderful.

This is a story about a girl… what happens next?

 

believable woman Copyright 2015 Nirvana Dawson

 

Home

To My Boys,

I heard a Mumma talking today as she cradled her little ones on her lap. “I can’t wait until they move out.” she said, full of enthusiasm. “I’m going to make sure they leave home as soon as they possibly physically can.”

She wasn’t having a hard week or feeling tired or overwhelmed, she just wanted them gone, she explained, and couldn’t wait to have her home back.

All of us love differently, and none of us perfectly. This Mumma loved her kids her way, and that’s alright, but it made me realize how much I’m looking forward to the future – a very different one than she has planned.

Home to me is not just a place, it’s a feeling. It’s the breath you let out when you walk in the door on tired legs at the end of a long day. It’s where you wear comfy track pants and savor moments of silence surrounded by the treasures you’ve collected along the way.

It’s the pencil marks that measure height on the kitchen wall. It’s the dints on the floor from dropped toys and secret spots used over and over again for hide and seek.

It’s noisy games of chasey and giggling kids jumping between fresh sheets as the bed is made. It’s toys in a pile on the couch right where I want to sit every single night.

It’s a kitchen bench full of flowers picked by little hands from the garden, and that mysterious orange juice stain on the ceiling.

It’s love. Messy, beautiful perfect love.

Home, for me, is family.

And I want you to know that life is going to give you so many adventures. It might take you around the world, or to your dream job in our own neighbourhood. Maybe you’ll be social butterflies or crave solitude. You might move into an apartment with friends or choose to live at home longer and save your money for a car or a house or a trip around Australia.  Perhaps you’ll study, here or abroad. Maybe you’ll fall madly in love with someone as a teenager and follow them… or maybe you’ll wait a while and take the time to fall in love with yourselves first.

The thing is boys, it’s your adventure, not mine. And I have no right to tell you how it’s going to go. I’ll dream with you, plan with you, listen to you and be excited for it every step along the way, but I am not going to plan out your future for you.

I just want you to know that no matter where your adventures take you – you have this place, wherever we are. I want you to know that you always have a home with us, no matter what.

You’re going to make a lot of places special in your lives, but this place, this family – you’ve brought it to life – and you are always welcome here. There’s no expiry date, no caveat, just a space to call your own for as long as you want it, and a home that will evolve, change, and grow along with you.

One day the orange juice stain will be long forgotten, the pencil marks on the wall faded, and the enormous piles of lego packed away. I wont be woken in the middle of the night by little arms wrapping around my neck for a hug, or called in at bedtime to check under the bed for monsters. The games of hide and seek will be replaced with board games, and I’ll get to put those sheets on the bed without anyone jumping in between them.

A lot is going to change around here over time, and as you grow into men I’ll grow older and my grey hairs will be a little harder to pluck out without going bald ;)

But you have a home here, whenever, however and for whatever reason you need. We built this home out of family together, and it’s yours as long as you want it.

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Copyright Nirvana Dawson 2014