I’m sat at the kitchen table watching rolling news about the Ukraine invasion. My son, up in the night with a fever, is still sleeping in his bed. I walked my daughter to school this morning and held her hand as she talked excitedly about her school trip today. There are daffodils planted months ago that have pushed through the earth and are bowing their heads under rain in the garden, and yet more on my windowsill in the shiny new blue vase that was a birthday gift from my sister. I just spoke to my husband who is staying with his Mum, a monthly visit of care and connection as they both navigate the difficult days of Alzheimers.
This is life with all its insurmountable beauty and pain. The yes, and.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, hunting the world for quieter ways.