ordinary wonderful
On the way into school this morning amidst the chatter about what we should have for dinner tonight and what the plans are for this weekend, I told my family that I'd woken up this morning with butterflies in my tummy. Excited butterflies. The type of butterflies you get when you know something wonderful is about to happen.
At seven, after the alarm had gone off, I had lain there for a few minutes listening to the birds singing, watching the early sunlight come through the trees and wondered about those butterflies. All morning as I got girls dressed, brushed and braided hair, signed school notices and searched for missing sunhats, I thought about what those butterflies were trying to tell me. As far as I could remember there was nothing exciting going on today, nothing out of the ordinary at all.
But those butterflies stayed with me and they danced. They made my steps feel lighter and they made the mundane feel brighter.
And so later on, in the car, I didn't really expect an answer or an explanation, I just wanted to share my story and possibly spread a bit of the flittery butterfly feeling.
But it was my farmer boy in the passenger seat who turned to me driving with the explanation. He told us that this is it. This, our everyday normal, is a blessing and totally butterfly worthy.
And it took me a second but I knew he was right. I didn't need to wait for a phone call, or an email, or a new dress to make my day. This car ride into school with our darlings, having to stop hard to let a family of ducks waddle across the road, a conversation about the beanie queue, brilliant glittery sunshine, a quick conversation with some lovely Mums in the car park, our first coffee out in ages, shopping for organic veg by the lake and then home to clean up the breakfast mess, to hang the washing on the line, to pull all the hair out of the girls shower drain, to pick and process a batch of tomatoes, to do the farm chores and to plant out the short creek paddock, this is what the butterflies were dancing about.
I'm so great at taking on all the sadness in the world, I think it's time to acknowledge what I have right here.
After all we have just been through, this everyday-day might be one of the best of my life. We are incredibly lucky for our normal. We are blessed with what we have. This is it! This normal everyday-day is going to be pretty wonderful. The butterflies were right. I'm happy and in love and alive.
Big love to you my friends in your days, doing what you do.
xx
PS Kathy A from Brisbane, can you email me, I have something I'd like to send you. x
At seven, after the alarm had gone off, I had lain there for a few minutes listening to the birds singing, watching the early sunlight come through the trees and wondered about those butterflies. All morning as I got girls dressed, brushed and braided hair, signed school notices and searched for missing sunhats, I thought about what those butterflies were trying to tell me. As far as I could remember there was nothing exciting going on today, nothing out of the ordinary at all.
But those butterflies stayed with me and they danced. They made my steps feel lighter and they made the mundane feel brighter.
And so later on, in the car, I didn't really expect an answer or an explanation, I just wanted to share my story and possibly spread a bit of the flittery butterfly feeling.
But it was my farmer boy in the passenger seat who turned to me driving with the explanation. He told us that this is it. This, our everyday normal, is a blessing and totally butterfly worthy.
And it took me a second but I knew he was right. I didn't need to wait for a phone call, or an email, or a new dress to make my day. This car ride into school with our darlings, having to stop hard to let a family of ducks waddle across the road, a conversation about the beanie queue, brilliant glittery sunshine, a quick conversation with some lovely Mums in the car park, our first coffee out in ages, shopping for organic veg by the lake and then home to clean up the breakfast mess, to hang the washing on the line, to pull all the hair out of the girls shower drain, to pick and process a batch of tomatoes, to do the farm chores and to plant out the short creek paddock, this is what the butterflies were dancing about.
I'm so great at taking on all the sadness in the world, I think it's time to acknowledge what I have right here.
After all we have just been through, this everyday-day might be one of the best of my life. We are incredibly lucky for our normal. We are blessed with what we have. This is it! This normal everyday-day is going to be pretty wonderful. The butterflies were right. I'm happy and in love and alive.
Big love to you my friends in your days, doing what you do.
xx
PS Kathy A from Brisbane, can you email me, I have something I'd like to send you. x