There are days that begin with the comfort of routine…grocery lists and favorite stores, a fresh haircut appointment, a tidy to-do list. Days where everything seems to hum along just fine. And yet, sometimes, beneath the quiet rhythm of life, there’s another current. One that pulls gently at the edges of the should, asking for attention.
Today was a good day. I went to Trader Joe’s…a place I always enjoy, full of cheerful flowers and familiar things…and made an appointment at a nearby salon. I appreciated that it’s so close to home, even if it doesn’t offer everything I’m used to. I’m learning to let go of a few things, or at least hold them more loosely. Maybe it’s time for less keratin and more softness. Maybe.
But as I moved through the day, I found myself brushing against the edges of yesterday. Just the residue of something I over heard, something that reminded me that even in this peaceful new chapter, life doesn’t always behave the way we hope it will. It’s strange how little moments…like noise from a neighbor or a voice raised just a bit too loudly can stir up something deeper. They can pull at those quiet, aching places inside. The ones that whisper, “Are we really settled?” Is this really home? Am I enough?”
It’s funny how quickly we can slip into comparison, even when we know better. I caught myself wondering if anyone else had a Sunday night like mine, if I was the only one feeling out of place for a moment in my own little world. And from there, the spiral of “less than” thoughts tried to creep in. I reminded myself…this is our home. Joe is so happy here. He calls it our little oasis. And he’s right.
Still, vulnerability has a way of surprising us. It shows up unannounced, often disguised as restlessness or melancholy. But I’m beginning to see it for what it really is: a sacred signal that something within me is growing.
I spoke with a dear friend today…someone I’ve known for many years. She’s now living in an assisted living community, and hearing her voice reminded me just how quickly life shifts. There was comfort in the conversation, but also a twinge of sadness. We are all aging. We are all moving. We are all letting go of what was to make space for what is.
Tomorrow, someone is coming to help with a few little home repairs. Joe has coffee plans with a friend. There are things to look forward to. And maybe that’s what it means to keep moving forward: not pretending the aches aren’t there, but choosing to trust that healing lives alongside them.
I may not have all the answers, and I may still feel fragile some days. But this much I know: I’m not alone in these transitions. And there’s beauty in building a life one quiet corner at a time.
What about you?
Have you ever had one of those moments where the outside world stirred something unexpected inside? What helped you find your way back to peace?
Whether you’re in the middle of change or just quietly holding space for someone else who is, I hope you’ll join me in breathing in this truth tonight:
I am safe in the space I’m creating. I welcome peace, even when the world feels loud. I trust that this season of transition is making me softer, stronger, and more attuned to what truly matters. I am not alone. I am deeply loved, and I belong…right here, right now.
Thank you so much for your vulnerability and transparency. I related to everything you shared in your post and thank you for reminding me that I am not alone in these feelings and experiences of life. I hope to hold on to “I am not alone, I am deeply loved and I belong.”
Thank you, Jose… Your words touch me deeply. It means the world to know that what I shared resonated with you and such a personal way. Life can feel so tender at times, but remembering that we are deeply loved and never alone is the kind of truth that anchors us. I’m grateful you felt that reminder here… and even more grateful for you.
Wow this is just what I needed to hear! I love your honesty in your feelings. I keep telling myself that every day is a new beginning and to embrace the highs and lows. And also to be patient.
I love being part of your life journey.
Kathi
Kathy, thank you so much for your beautiful comment. Your words felt like a warm hug. Yes… Every day truly is a new beginning, and learning to welcome the highs and lows with patience is something I’m still working on, too. I love that. You’re walking this journey right alongside me. It means more than you know.
Good morning. Everything you said brought me into such reality. Wow. I have known you long enough, that I think I know the friend you are talking about and that makes me sad. My youngest and only aunt is full of cancer and her hubby just had his 2nd leg amputation. They went into an assisted living home less than 2 months ago. When I visited her , she said, how did we get to this ? It broke my heart. I never thought she was old as we had our babies together!!! My great friend who lives in Indiana and lived in the lakehouse we visited a few times, fell a couple of times and has been in the hospital and rehab facility. I am sad about her too. She missed Easter at home which upset her. Well Marcia, I say just keep plugging away in your ‘digs’. Everything will fall into place in your ‘little oasis’!!!! Hugs xo
Oh, my heart… Thank you for sharing so openly. Life has such a way of surprising us with both its beauty and sorrow, doesn’t it? I can hear the weight in your words, and I’m so sorry for what your aunt and friend are going through… and for the ache in your own heart. Sometimes it all feels like too much, but we keep going, one step at a time. Thank you for reminding me that we’re all doing our best to hold onto what matters most. Sending you a big hug from my new nest.
I am listening so very hard, right now. Had to make a flight to the East Coast. My younger sister has been diagnosed with a terminal blood cancer and her youngest daughter suggested if I want to see her it should be ‘sooner’.
Then I receive a phone call from a dear daughter-in-law that my middle son is admitted to the hospital and could I come east. Seems like our family never does things the easy way.
So, my quiet, peaceful home is not near and trips are being made to different facilities for almost 10 days now. My niece and I have forged some stronger bonds which is a wonderful thing.
In a few days I will return home with my daughter. My sister is making her own quiet journey. My son has a diagnosis (related to a successful kidney transplant several years ago) that now requires his own chemo treatments. They will be done on an out-patient basis and we are hopeful and prayerful things will improve.
So, my homeward trip is one that hopefully will bring some peace and quiet times back into my life. We all live our lives as best we can, and take pleasure and joy in the little things, don’t we???