Friday, 16 January 2015
2014 birthing change
From our humble beginnings in 2011, aiming to document the awe and gratitude that we felt to have
finally completed our family with a little girl we never thought we would have, 2014 was a crazy and whirl-wind year. In our grief from the end of 2013, life was forever changed, and we took the insane leap of faith and moved our family the whole way across the state. With very little planning, and so many ideas and dreams about what a new life would look like.
This is a lot of what life looked like in 2014.
A lot of healing.
Days at the beach.
Days of work, work, work to try to keep our new business afloat to keep our new lifestyle of being home with our children.
A lot of brokenness, and homesickness.
Forming new friendships. Exploring new places.
Letting go of our beautiful pup (almost 7 years old) who went to a new home on a big property when we were not able to finance accomodation big enough to keep him happiest. Reprioritising.
It was not easy, and in fact was probably one of the hardest and unhappiest, most adventurous and exciting, terrifying and exhilarating years of our lives. The highest highs and the lowest lows.
And although 2014 has ended, the beginning of 2015 is much the same.
Except the strangest thing has happened. I have realised that a post I made many moons (and blogs) ago about my dream for the future, has slowly come to life and fruition. In my dreaming, hoping, visualising and diarising, the unreality started to become reality. Almost every facet and every colour, shape and visualisation of that dream is now a big part of our life. And that realisation has so much power.
Imagine if you could dream your life and create it.
And it was as hard as giving birth. You struggled and grew, and your mind, soul and reality stretched to the point of breaking as you grew this big, uncomfortable dream that was suddenly much too big for your life right now. What if it gave you stretch marks and hot flushes, nightmares, cravings and made you feel sick sometimes with the big-ness and the overwhelming-ness of it all. What if you started to glow with the realisation of your dream starting to break free of the confines of your life? What if it became so big that one day you birthed it? and it was excruciatingly painful, and you left behind everything that used to be your life, but in all of the crazy beautifulness of the process there emerged your new life? Screaming, slippery, beautiful and growing every second alongside you?
How amazing could that be?