Lately.

The days have been full. Sometimes in the kind of way that feels like a gift. Other times in the kind of way that makes it tempting to pause the whole world for just a moment to catch a breath. A new rhythm has been unfolding with early mornings, packed lunches, and the delicate balancing act of tending to both a child’s joy and a mother’s own.

Fresh flowers came home yesterday for the first time in two months. White hydrangeas, the healthiest-looking bunch left since the visit to the store was late. Flowers have always been a kind of compass, and their absence a quiet reminder of drifting out of alignment. These past weeks carried health struggles, a career shift, constant movements, and uncertainty. Pretty much chaos, with energy poured into simply keeping afloat.

Still, the hydrangeas feel like a return. A sign of life, however small. Perhaps a few blooms will make their way into the new classroom too, tucked between the lessons and the noise.

Life right now is asking for a stretch. A rooting into stability while holding space for softer parts that long for stillness, that remember rivers and fruit trees, that dream beyond the edges of what exists in this moment.

This space is a way back. A place to write things down, to remember, to share, to notice. Even in the midst of everything, there is beauty in the in-between.