an unwritten season

It has been a while since I have journaled, taken pictures of my daily life, or celebrated a small moment just for me. This has been a time of getting sick, getting better, doctor appointments, dental visits, getting sick again, antibiotics, and lots of cough syrup.

Who wants to document moments that are less about living and more about surviving?

This is how I define an unwritten season: A time in my life that I want to put in the past, so I can live the life I really want...somewhere...out there...beyond today. I want to wait for one of those days that I get to hike through the woods with my family, find a delightful treasure at the flea market, or go on a romantic date with my husband. Those are the days I want to write about. Those are the days I want to represent my life.

If I wait for the perfect days, I won't write. I will have no snapshots. There are disappointing things about the best days, and beautiful moments even in the midst of the worse ones. Often, the richest seasons of my story have resulted from struggle, disappointment, failure and defeat.

We get bogged down by life. Motherhood. Marriage. Change. Making ends meet. Real life can be exhausting. It is easy to disappear in our own lives and forget that everyday is our story, everyday is our life. Beautiful stories are not made of perfect moments.

Yesterday, while cleaning out bobby pins and cough drop wrappers from my bedside table, I found a packet of flower seeds. They aren't blooming anytime soon (I haven't ever successfully grown anything from seed). But they reminded me to slow down and smell the daisies today-even if they are only seeds.