I can not believe that November is almost here! Where did my October go? This month has been filled with a lot of trials and trust for my husband and I. So, it’s bittersweet to see October go. Bitter because this month held a lot of challenges but sweet because these challenges led towards a deeper trust/faith in God.
Anyways, Tuesday is all about inspiration and so I wanted to share with you an article about the importance of cultivating wonder as a momma. Let me know what you think!
I watched as my one year old daughter, Yvette, glided across our yard. Oh, the joy in her steps and the sunshine in her hair was a beautiful sight to see. And then there was this moment; one small moment that will forever be engraved in the depths of my memory. It was the moment when my daughter’s joyful steps suddenly halted with captivation. The world seemed to stand still as I watched her bend down to slowly pick a Dandelion which had blocked her path.
I watched as Yvette brought the Dandelion up to her eyes; twisting it slowly to examine each brilliantly yellowed petal. She turned to look at me with a twinkle in her eye and wisdom well beyond her one year.
She lightly tickled the tips of the petals with her fingers, tucked the stem behind her ear and began to prance around the yard again. It was during that moment when I realized my one year old was teaching me a valuable lesson; she knew something that I did not.
When was the last time I looked at a Dandelion and saw beauty? When was the last time I looked at this world with wonder?
I can no longer remember a time where I was curious about the leaves changing color, noticed the soft brush of a butterfly’s wings, or marveled at the specks of color in a patch of green grass. It has been years since I caught a fresh flake of snow on my tongue or created a family of snow angels.
There was a time when I looked at this world through a child’s lens; a lens filled with awe and wonder. A time when my steps were filled with joy — just like my daughters are now.
Where has it gone?
“The life of an adult has drained my soul,” I told myself. “I have allowed it to suck my joy, awe, and wonder; depriving me of the nutrients which I need to thrive on a positive scale.” And then it struck me; that seven letter word which arguably has caused the most heartache in my life.
Allowed. I have allowed it.
I have willingly bowed down to the stress my life holds rather than celebrating the beauty which surrounds it. I have focused on the pain rather than the love. I have allowed my joy, wonder, and curiosity to dwindle — all the things that make me, ME — in order to fill the shoes I believed I needed to fill. Why? Because I was deceived by the lie that chasing the American dream of a steady job, nice home, and a brand new car would be more fulfilling than smelling the roses along the way. I believed that my child needed the latest toys to be happy. I believed that the curb appeal of our home had more influence than the exploration of our back yard’s treasures.
The Dandelion came into our home that night. In fact, it is still in our home. Together we pressed, sealed, and hung the Dandelion in the corner of our dining room. It doesn’t match my decor colors, it’s a little wimpy looking from the use of that day, and it has lost the majority of its petals. But, it has become a symbol for our family; a symbol of a newfound awe towards the beauty our lives hold — a beauty which we didn’t notice before. It has reminded us to see the world through the eyes of a child; eyes filled with excitement and joy at even the smallest of things.
Our Dandelion has become the unexpected symbol for cultivating a family with hearts full of wonder and a renewed appreciation of life.