As dawn’s first light filters through the curtains, I wake slowly in my little blue bach by the sea. The soft hues of morning paint the room in a gentle glow, and I feel as if I am in a dream. It still feels surreal that this home is finally mine; I have to pinch myself to believe it’s real. The open window lets the soothing sounds of the rolling ocean calm my nerves, and as I draw back the curtains, the expansive view of the sea and hills fills me with peace. This place feels like destiny – a cosy haven, for me and the girls and perfect for someone who has forever been torn between the ocean and the land.
Below, the garden is a wild, untamed fruit forest that reminds me of the fairytales of my childhood, albeit the ones where the wicked witch resides. The trees stand tall and proud, their gnarled branches heavy with the promise of fruit. Though it has been left to its own devices for some time, the bones are there, and eventually, it will become my very own Garden of Eden, where flowers and fruit thrive, and birds come to nest. In this paradise, the grand Kereru reigns supreme, watching over the garden’s inhabitants and accepting guavas as tribute until he becomes so plump he can barely take flight.
I can imagine the garden bursting with vibrant colours and sweet scents, a sanctuary where my girls can play and explore, as they get lost in a world of imagination. They will chase butterflies, build fairy houses, and create stories of their own. These visions inspire me, yet frustratingly so, I find myself still a little frozen. The weight of my dreams and the reality of the work ahead leave me feeling overwhelmed. As past failures still sit on my shoulders, I am torn between the desire to do everything and the need to simply just be.
The wait to get to this point was a long one, and during this time, as I allowed my dreams to grow and expand, I took a few hard lessons in embracing the in-between, where nothing happens externally, and instead, you must go inward. I learned to still my mind and begin living in each moment, letting go of all expectations. It was a period of introspection and growth, where I discovered the beauty of patience and the strength that comes from within.
Throughout this period in my life, I thought I learnt to trust the process and have faith that everything would fall into place when the time was right. Yet, as life has started moving forward again, I find that despite all the hard work I put in and the appreciation I developed for the small, quiet moments, the past still lingers a little too long, making me doubt myself. I know I am more than capable, yet the mental battle remains a significant challenge.
As I pause to reflect on my journey, I tell myself that everything unfolds in its own time and each of us have a timeline that is as unique and special as we are. We are often taught to value doing over being. If we aren’t constantly in motion, we fear time is slipping away. But life, in its truest form, is about finding peace and joy in the simple, everyday moments—in the art of being.
So as I sit here this morning in this moment of stillness, I allow myself some grace, it’s still okay to take things one step at a time. This home is my journey, an adventure to embark on, not a final destination. Each day, I will nurture it, just as it nurtures me. And in time, I know it will become everything I have ever dreamed of and more.
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