21/11/2025
There’s a tree I walk to almost every day.
Quiet. Steady. If only it could talk.
In autumn it lets go without fear.
In winter it rests without guilt.
In spring it rises again, blooming because it can, not because it’s performing for anyone.
And every time I pass it, it reminds me how motherhood moves in seasons too.
Some days we’re shedding old versions of ourselves.
Some days we’re deep in the messy middle, holding on through the storms.
And some days we surprise ourselves with new little blossoms of strength.
Nature teaches us this so beautifully… but it’s so easy to forget when the world around us is loud — notifications pinging, expectations piling up, boundaries blurred, everyone seeming to have it all figured out.
But we are allowed to be seasonal.
We are allowed to ebb, flow, rest, rise, root and re-root.
Everything is a phase.
Nothing needs to be rushed.
Our instincts are still there — ancient, wise, and waiting for a little quiet.
Just like the tree, we are growing in ways we can’t always see…
and we are still beautiful in every single season.