When darkness comes

It’s been a rough year. No happy outcomes yet, where I share my learnings and we all nod and agree on how the challenges and grief make us who we are.

It’s just been rough. It’s been one surprising turn after the other.

Why am I sharing this then, if it doesn’t finish on a positive note and make you all smile, feel good and get on with your day?

Maybe to share a moment of presence from this unreal bubble I seem to be in.

Maybe to share that the flowers still have the most enticing scent as they blossom here in our Aussie spring.

Maybe to share that those closest to you, friends and family and so many kind people even without a label or long-standing connection, are there for you when you need it.

Maybe to share that life is “what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans” as John Lennon so adeptly put it.

Maybe to show that it’s OK to share darkness, too.

In chronological order: I finished up my job. That in itself is a bit of a rattle. But you jump on the horse and look for the next right opportunity.

I’m still on the horse, though, with many other riders searching for that next clear path. The horse and I are exploring multiple paths, but for some reason, the right one has not appeared yet. Here we all are, with our drive and unicorn horses, and yet the market is asking us to get smaller and smaller, to get into boxes that automated systems and conservative thinking understand.A strange bubble to be in, reaching out, and not yet feeling the solid handshake of a combination that can go on to do wonderful things. Is it testing us emotionally, physically and financially? Yes. But it is the least of our worries currently.

We sadly lost my dad out of the blue three months ago.

We went back to Denmark to help my mum and to celebrate my dad’s remarkable life. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with on its own, my husband and I had travel booked for our 25th anniversary, which we of course had cancelled. The travel insurance turned out to not cover our cancellation, due to my dad not being an Australian resident. What….?? A small but unexpected extra rattle.

Then my brother in Denmark was diagnosed with a sudden brain tumour.

Being in another bubble. Hoping, meditating, praying, dancing to happy music and being in silence to somehow show him that we were right here, needing him to stay with us. Talking and moving closer, even if we’re physically far away.

Our world has turned even darker, and the bubble seems unreal. Utter disbelief.

I’m waiting for all these bubbles to burst like at a child’s birthday party when you blow, and the bubbles burst with magical rainbow splashes and laughter. They do say though, that they stain your clothes irreversibly.

Not knowing what else to do, I put my head into another bush of blossoming flowers – how strong is that lemon tree flower scent right now?

I don’t know what it is with 2024. It’s not the finest in my childhood family. To put it mildly.

All we can do is continue putting one foot in front of the other and trust that magically, love and connection will win.

All I can do is to put my face into those blossoms again that smell so enticingly.

All I can do is love the ones I’m with. Deeply.

To boost our morale, can we please have some magic bubbles? I don’t care if they stain.

Only light can drive out darkness, they say.