I’ve been an awful blogger, I know. I’ve actually been an all round awful a lot of things but I’m not logging this post to beat myself up or make you sit through yet another boring self-directed tirade over something that won’t matter in ten years’ time. So, sorry. Here I am, and I have a clanger.
My kid. Well, I’m battling to call her a kid nowadays. She’s nearly as tall as I am, she vets my online writing, wavering between being excited for me to relate a story she is part of and… banning me from ever mentioning her, at all. Like ever. So my relating part…the thing you got to know me with? That’s a bit quieter now. There are fewer fine details I’m putting out there online and, really, that’s not a bad thing. Heck, I wrote about how that would happen in 2011, it was already happening then, it’s much sharper now. But, actually, if you follow me on Twitter, you probably know more about what goes through my head 24/7 than anyone else ever will. Again, sorry. Man I love that space.
Okay, okay, back to my point. Between racing from deadline to deadline, I’m mentally writing something that’s been sitting in my head since about a month ago. I’ve noticed an interesting parallel that I’d like to explore. It is the seasons.
This sprang from another day of sitting at my computer, and watching my daughter do her homework, while the dog bounces around between our legs and I try so hard to hold on to the moment, because really, there’s nothing else to life. Pretty soon she won’t want or need me to help her figure out 47 x 3 and, mentally this is playing in my head all day, every day.
So, mix in a large ladleful of internal beating-self-up because I missed an important school event (but made it to the other one…) and I have to seriously forgive myself.
But, back to my point and parallel:
When a baby is born, all pink and cute…they’re like Spring. As they grow and their little life flowers bloom, stretching up to the sun, that’s when their world is all colour and growth.
Then kids hit Summer and they start becoming themselves. They learn the bright colours that suit them best, and they grasp what they shine at. This, I’d reckon is much like the school days, that are filled with exploration and friendships, fun times and sweltering under the humidity of acing exams.
And just as the leaves start to crunch beneath our feet, and we dig out our favourite cardigan, Autumn hits. This is when children become adults, as they begin to look more internally for their meaning – heck, that question of “what do I want to be when I grow up?” plagued us all in our early 20s. But just as Autumn sees us heading indoors for warm soup and toast, it’s also the time when we build and reinforce ourselves, our homes, for winter. We celebrate by throwing those crunchy leaves into the air and laughing. We rush inside before the rains get too mad, stopping for a little to jump in a puddle.
Yet, there is Winter. The time when we are cuddled up and contemplative. Having built the foundations for our life, we take our time with it. We amble along for afternoon walks and take pleasure in our tea breaks. We’re busy keeping warm and enjoying my favourite life treat – the tingle of winter sunshine my hometown is so known and loved for.
Right now, my daughter is in her Summer. She is all colour and growth, excitement and warm evenings under a twinkling sky. I feel like Summer came too quickly but, all she’s ever wanted to do is grow up, so I had to let it happen (I am, of course, fooling. Parents don’t get any choice over growing up – trust me, we know this).
While I may feel like the time is slipping by, and the seasons come too quickly at us, just as Spring seems to have zoomed the heck on by… I love this season. The parts where I catch the early morning sunshine of her telling me about her dream over cereal and the long evenings where she asks 85 million questions. And while I may not catch every sunrise, every time she smiles (I wish I could), I know her summer sun rises, every day.
And that’s why. Right there. I’m finished beating myself up today.