designedlifeblog.blogspot.com spring blossom

I know, I know, there are quite a few spring posts. Heck, yesterday’s post was my perfect spring scent. And while I can’t promise no more spring posts, I can safely say this one means the most to me.
designedlifeblog.blogspot.com spring blossom

How do you like my blossom trees? I am so happy they survived as I planted them kind of late, just before November frost. More importantly I planted them and every other little bit of green in my garden, despite worm, slug and dirt phobia. And while I still rarely take the time to sit and relax in my garden, it brings me joy to look out the window and the blossoms are absolutely the best part. 

They symbolise spring and spring is to me awakening, new starts, joy and lightness. Not just because I can’t take any more of the monotonous shade of grey every time I pop my head out the window. I live for light and it’s the insane amount of beautiful sunshine streaming in that made my choose my home and why I smile every time I turn the key.
Spring is my full circle season. I never write the word and it’s one of the hardest for me to say; divorce. Closely followed by ex, I usually use the dad. I separated almost exactly a year ago. It’s not that a crummy year followed and I still can’t believe a year has passed but it has been the most defining year of my life. To be expected but you don’t truly understand what that means until you live it, at least I didn’t. A bumpy road, with more ups than downs, but mostly just cast in shadows. I felt like a thousand shades of grey, going back and forth from determined and cold to soft and vulnerable, with anger, sadness and a deep sense of loss. Of the past, of the present and also the future. Who can live without a sense of future? Cloudy in mind, lost in soul and while I enjoy driving in the mist (at least during the day), living in the mist is something else entirely.
But in the fog I not only lost but also found. Things about me I’d forgotten or hadn’t even know. What makes up me. I honestly will always prefer mindless action movies to filmhouse and will always be a bit Disney in wanting happy endings. I cry now when sometimes moves me. There is however absolutely nothing wrong or childish about any of these things. I am me.
And while I still can’t navigate my way out of a one-way street I realise now that my determination to get there is my advantage. How determined I am was a given but hidden. Heck yea, I studied for that exam, I not only want to pass but to ace it instead of ‘I kind of prepped’. I can’t fathom why I used to say that. I am a bear mom, fiercely protective of my kids. I let them climb as high as they dare go but will stand there arms up to catch them if they fall or if they ask for help. 

That fierce protective nature however has morphed into something a bit different. I have short, quiet but intensely important conversations with my daughter as she starts taking her own steps into the world. Conversations about her hair when it curls, her name, her colour, her parents and anything else the world or other kids in her instance feel the need to point out to her. Fierce in letting her know she is wonderful and special, as is the next child. Soft that we need not tear anyone down nor need them to define us. A Dutch saying is ‘just be normal’. In her home and wherever she goes, she need not be normal, she just needs to be. Herself. Funny how important it is to me to raise my kids strong, kind and fiercely confident in being themselves when that is where I struggle. When you don’t know who you are and lost hope itself (to dream of the future is hope defined), it’s perpetual Dutch winter; grey, windy and alas no snow to cover the old.
Gradually as it started clearing up outside, I started feeling that way more and more. I then crashed my car going a hundred and forty into the guard rail a few times and headed straight.. to the office. Honestly, what was I thinking? Both in my driving and in my subsequent disregard of even getting a check-up. Then when my back shut down and I couldn’t run I still pushed myself in tears to at least do my daily set. I work hard and learnt to not hide that fact but be proud of it. I did however not realise that is not a given or that harder isn't better, it is not drive or motivation, it is just hard.
It is not a given to be able to get up nor to try again. That came home for me when I could no longer ignore the lumps or the ache in my chest, armpits and ribs. One, if not the only, time where I was really just too ostrich (probably just another blocked pore, part of getting fit, losing weight, it's fine..). Luckily cysts, multiple sets, which are noticeable for the reason of the upper body pain; I work my body hard, too hard, without compensation. Hard enough that my lungs expanding in my chest at night or tying my robe shut is uncomfortable. 
Hard is a deeply embedded characteristic of mine but not a good one. I held definite expectations of others but did not dare express them. I let that go but it took till now to want to let go of them for myself. I’m never enough, I can be better, newer, stronger, farther, smarter, faster, prettier, harder. Always comparing, always more, always harder. Hips hurting, keep running. Back stiff, carry that thirty plus kilo box to the attic. Tired, sleep tomorrow. Because? Because I am never good enough.
It’s spring now. Spring to me are the beliefs that leave me fresh, not new, simply in the now; It is. This moment. &I am, I am enough.

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