There is a time of year that is particularly tasty. It's that special time when the end of the strawberry harvest overlaps the beginning of the lemon and lime basil in my garden. The garden is surrounded by excitement of baby cucumbers, green tomatoes, and little sprouts of citrusy basil goodness. The world seems to vibrate with what is to come.
And yet, there is a sadness. Soon it will be too hot for our poor little strawberry plants. We'll see them again next year, but we have to say goodbye, for now, to those daily bowls of sweet, red springtime.
Life is full of these transitions. I feel that I'm at a similar intersection at the moment. I sense my girls growing and changing, and while they still need mama, they're becoming more independent. I'm not in Constant Care mode anymore. At least not while we're in the midst of this particular growing season.
This opens up possibilities. Opportunities. Choices I thought I wouldn't be making for myself for years, or at least a few more months. These aren't big changes, but I know the path down which they lead. I can see a hint of what lies on the horizon. These changes, this shift, are definitely exciting. Not only can I sneak time for myself, but I can devote a little more brain power to my own thoughts and actions. I can dream. For myself. Not just as "Mama."
But fear exists in change, even for me. While I thrive on change and adaptation, I still wobble, uneasy as the world shifts beneath my feet. This is one of those moments. It will certainly pass, and I'll regain my confidence, but for now I wait. Still. Arms outstretched. Waiting for steadiness to return.
It will be harvest time.
For now, I'll enjoy the overlap.
Mama. Teacher. Writer. Creative Soul.