What will I take out of this year?
For most December 31st will signal the end of a chapter, a page tuner and an end to an intensely emotional read into the lives of families, friends and yourself. My eldest daughter, whilst reflecting in the car, said to us that she wouldn’t look at the end of the year and say ‘thank goodness 2020 is over’ but she spoke of her fond memories of new found friendships, her new love for dance and her ability to show resilience when faced with adversity.
I’ve realized that I’m happy with me.
This year I met a group of wonderful women, mums like me, passionate and creative, with a passion for life. We work, we cry, we feel challenged with our children’s behavior but we also love, love, love their intelligence and love for life. Our chats have made me think about what I am happy to be happy about.
I’m a pottera. I could spend all day watering my plants, picking off old leaves and flowers, moving small bits of furniture, reorganizing spaces, silently watch my children learn and change and light my tobacco and patchouli candles. It’s ok to want to have a clean house. It’s ok to not have clutter. It’s ok to vacuum and dust when you feel there is a need. But it’ not ok to feel not normal when you feel passion being a pottera who loves organisation and beautiful spaces. It is me. It is what makes me ‘work best’.
Me, with my intense love for life but with a strong character sprinkled with anxiety has also ventured through the year with reserve. I’ve let go of a great many things… plants for one have been gifted to my close ones and I’ve cheerily spread some green life across the spaces within my school. I’ve observed spaces, people, relationships and realised that life is busy, challenging, emotional and yes… a roller coaster for everyone.
As we drive to our special mountain village to spend some time amoungst nature picnicking in meadows, I reflect on the happiness my job gives me. Investing my time in creating engaging learning environments and experiences for the children who will be leading us into the future gives me goosebumps. What resilient little humans we have around us! A face covered in a mask has become their norm. I hope that creating cubbies with sticks and leaves in the park when the plastic slides were out of bounds and connecting with the beauty of the nature and families around remains part of their norm.