On the eve of my birthday, I reflect back on the past year, and all that has happened. Being a mother, I have a deeper appreciation for what the day of my birth means to my parents. I have so much gratitude for the unfaltering love and support they have always shown me.
Time races on regardless of our desire to slow it down in precious moments and speed it up in ones of pain. It is our most precious commodity, and yet most won't realize this until something tragic forever alters the course of their life.
My first experience with this reality came with the death of my brother Adam when he was 16. At that moment I knew life would never be the same. I also knew that each moment was a precarious gift and none were guaranteed. My birthday is bittersweet, having experienced another year on our incredible earth without my brother. I see so much of his essence in my son, his coy smile and incredible exuberance for life. The peaceful calm my daughter often embodies also deeply reminiscent of the old soul my brother had. I am profoundly grateful for another year to experience so much. So many beautiful people, joyous moments, heartaches, and human struggles. The divinity and humanity within each day are humbling to my core. I step into the next year of my life with so much passion for the work I have been brought here to do. Being an indie mum is an exhausting, liberating and precious gift. I can say with heartfelt certainty that I am the author of my adventure story and I am embracing every sacred moment.