Don’t wait for someone to bring you flowers. Plant your own garden.

I’ve been thinking about how lately it feels like I’ve stepped from the solid ground onto a frozen lake that could crack at any minute. I’m doing big girl things for the first time in a long while. I’m googling terms I feel like I should know at my age. Vested pensions…Dividends…Huh?

I’m entering into a bunch of unknown territories all at once. I’m saying “no” to trips on a whim (gasp) and “yes” to taking care of me. All on my own. Making the decisions, signing the contracts, doing the things. Crackle crack pop? I’m a bit nervous and tired. But the truth is, when I really, really look at it, I’m not stepping onto a frozen lake. I’m stepping from it. Right onto solid ground. A ground where I can jump up and down. A ground where I can build on. A ground where I can plant this damn garden…with allllll the flowers *I* want. Yes.