Becoming...

84 days ago I began my 40th trip around the sun. Forty. Just typing that I can feel my eyes well up with unshed tears. But unlike our anti-aging culture, they're neither tears of sadness or regret. In truth, I cannot quite describe the emotion driving them other than a deep sense of self in finding my purpose and my journey of becoming.

As I sit down to capture this moment in words, more for myself and a desire to record my journey and inspirations along the way, I can't help but truly catch every little detail in the setting of my life.

The morning air is brisk, as it seems the weather seems to have forgotten that its June and the chilly spring mornings should have passed by now. So I wrap myself in my fuzzy sherpa, slide on my well-worn slippers and head out to the swing on the front porch with a good book, as is my norm, to begin my day. The difference, today I am not alone. Joining me on the porch is Pepper, our 9 week old Havanese puppy beginning his third day in his new home. Grabbing my book and cup of coffee now has the addition of a play pen to keep him enclosed on the porch, a fuzzy blanket to snuggle up in for warmth and a couple of chew toys...aside from me, I seem to be his favorite chew toy. I've got everything setup for him, my coffee, the books I'm reading and my porch swing. The weather is rather grey, but sometimes days like this help me to think.

Normally, I'm deep into my thoughts and reading material. But today, the sweet little squeaking snores of my snoozing pup cause me to pause and smile, and really take in my surroundings. After he sniffed around at the mulch and dirt that have splashed back up onto the porch from recent rains he made himself right at home beside me. I find that these same surroundings touch my soul and make me feel right at home as well.

Tucked into the mulch he was nosing through you'll find a perfect yet unremarkable front garden. By today's standards, its neither perfectly composed or full of show stopping plants, but I wouldn't have it any other way. What I have are a collection of plants that were grown and cultivated by Grandpa Mark, my sister-in-law's father who unexpectedly passed away in 2021. He was a green thumb and he loved it. Today, his hostas, hydrangeas, irises, pink turtleheads, coneflowers and black-eyed susans have burst forth with new growth as they have finally accepted their new home in these garden beds. It is such a joy to sit amongst his plants and know that they will be well-loved into the future as his legacy continues. But they aren't the only things growing there, its a constant battle to pull out the little maple trees growing that seem to sprout up when I'm not looking from the helicopters that fell and seeded themselves from the few maple trees we were able to salvage when clearing the lot. I've also got a couple surprise additions this year as a large, healthy wild black raspberry bush has nestled itself right into one of Mark's hydrangeas along with a beautiful rose bush. I cannot wait for them to bloom to see what colors they add to the landscape. And the kids and I are monitoring the growth on the raspberry bush as we can often be found trapsing through the woods picking and eating them when in season with berry stained fingertips and satisfied smiles on our faces. The imperfection is perfection to me.

It is becoming...

As I look past the garden to the grass beyond, there is a sea of clover. I'm sure a simple google search would result with dozens of products to eliminate the clover and replace it with perfect suburbia green grass. But I'll be honest, I love it. It feels natural. Wild. Healthy. When it warms up again and dries out, I'll be in my happy place on my cub cadet riding lawn mower heading out to mow and the flowers from the clover will temporarily disappear but without the bagger attached they will mulch and fertilize the soil giving back to the ecosystem below the surface. Before I know it, new ones will emerge.

It is becoming...

Standing tall in the front yard is one of the few maple trees I was able to save. On a sunny morning its leaves provide just the right amount of shade for comfort on the front porch swing and I love to watch the shadows it makes on the house and porch when the breeze rustles the leaves and morning light from the sunrise bathes the front of the house. On a low branch is a simple, but perfect birdhouse. It was a gift two years ago from the same sister-in-law's grandfather who is now 100 years old. It resembles a simple log cabin and as he told me was constructed with exactly 69 nails. I'm confident its in the wrong spot as two years in we have yet to have a bird call it home, but I see it every time I look out the window, and it reminds me that you're never too old do do something you love or create something beautiful.

It is becoming...

The edges of my landscape are surrounded with natural, native, perfect weeds. I have created a sweeping natural border with the lawn mower of mowed "grass" that is bordered by thick, tall fields full of life. In fact, on any given day you may find me out in those fields with a pair of clippers creating bouquets of wildflowers and whatever else is growing to bring a little bit of that nature inside. At the moment, little white daisies have popped up along with the early blooms of pale purple wild hollyhocks. It is a beautiful reminder that beauty can be found anywhere, especially as its meant to be untamed and wild in nature. As the seasons change, the flora changes, the colors filling my vases change...and I learn more about this place which I call home and the land that I am responsible for stewarding.

It is becoming...

This is me. I'm on a journey to creating a healthy ecosystem for myself and everyone around me. Finding pleasure and peace in the small moments. Finding perfection amongst all of the seeming imperfection according to the standards we're programmed by. Learning to embrace the natural and untamed beauty I'm finding in myself along the journey. Finding the time to stop and literally smell the roses. Being present with myself and being open to the path and plan God has for me and my life. Choosing gratitude for the lessons and blessings I've learned and collected over the last 40 years.

I am becoming.

And its not by standard definition. It is my own. It is intentional. It is a gift.

If you're still with me, I hope you find some inspiration here. We're all in this together. I find tremendous joy and fulfillment sharing my journey and story. If it touches just one person and causes you to pause, to slow down and smell the roses...to choose gratitude on a gloomy day...well, then, it's worth it. As my great grandmother used to say "If you're not learning, you're dying."

So yes, these unshed tears are full of emotion. The emotion that comes from knowing that I am and will never stop becoming, and that's a beautiful thing.

What's your story?