This past week my mind has been filled with wishes. Wishing for spring to come. Wishing I could leave the house. Wishing the baby would get just a bit bigger so she wouldn’t be so fussy. Wishing for next week. Wishing for the baby to sleep longer. Wish for when my baby would be awake longer. Wishing that I could get to a place when the house was clean and the laundry was put away. Wishing that I could get organized. Wishing this season was over. I was ready to move on. I was over it.
I remember when when I first started working I would tell my Grandmother that I couldn’t wait till Friday. She would respond “Don’t wish your life away.” Those words repeated and repeated in my head this week as I struggled with wishing.
And yet, they didn’t make my thoughts stop wishing. They only made my heart hurt more. I was wishing away perfectly good time. We are all healthy. This is my last baby. My son is in a fun creative stage. But I struggled to see this through my exhaustion. I struggled to be present.
Yet, I continued to wish for spring, for them to grow bigger, and for time to move forward.
As I sat inside holding the baby, while others played outside, looking out the kitchen window wishing I could be outside playing too. I was confronted with the season.
As I looked at the bare trees covered in snow. The world was still even though I could hear laughter.
Without winter the leaves would not fall and the ground would not be nourished. While winter is dark, cold and isolating, it is a season that nourishes the soil in which great things will grow.
And great things are growing. I must just be present to see them.