Flowers & Future.

Do you know why after almost eight years, I still write on this blog? (even though blogging is apparently dead – although that’s another story for another day…) Is it the thrill of gaining new followers? Or the (very generous) PR gifts I’ve received over the years? No. I write for myself,  and in writing for myself  I hope some of these words and passing thoughts resonate with at least one person out there. This week I had a plethora delightful messages from women across the globe sharing their stories of struggle, growth and waiting, they thanked me for some of the previous posts I’ve written, they thanked me for my honesty in my Instagram stories, and they thanked me for being encouraging in the face of adversity. These messages spurred me into picking up my metaphorical pen and paper and allow the swirling thoughts that echo in my head and in my chest escape for a while. I wrote this post in the notes section of my phone two days after I walked in the rain home crying and singing “Be Still”, fiercely declaring “surely love and mercy, your peace and kindness will follow me”.  Last week was filled with hurt, dealing with others anger and a lot of confusion and it really broke my spirit, but it inspired me to pen this post. I hope these words help someone.

So, flowers and future. Where do I even start with this one, well maybe I should address my intermittent disappearances on this space, life has been well… happening I suppose and life has been throwing me curve balls and challenges that have been so much bigger than me. When the culmination of seven years of studying and working was coming to a close, I thought to myself “Sade, this is it, you’re almost at the end of this part of your journey, through this pain and pressure, you will birth great things, it is almost done”. I thought I’m going to find a job after graduation and I’ll work hard, and I’ll play hard and life will be golden. I’m not sure where this idealistic view of life came from, but I suppose it’s what I told myself to get through those final difficult months, and then of course I finished, I graduated and life didn’t pan out how I had expected it to. In January I finally landed a role, and I wrote a post about new chapters, and indeed it was a new chapter (that has now closed), in that chapter I learned how to deal with difficult people calmly, l learned how to navigate meetings as the only woman on the team and I grew and grew and grew. But it wasn’t easy at all, I was crushed and pressed from all sides, and some mornings I would wake up, look at the ceiling and wonder if this is really what I had been called to do. The thing with future is that often when we encounter resistance, persecution and pain, in the beginning, it begins to warp our thoughts towards ourselves, our future and the plan for our lives. Where do I fit into all this? I’m not sure. I’m still on the fence in regards to whether I should keep pushing and pursuing architecture but for now, I will continue to try my best in all I do and live by faith, not by sight ignoring the path of least resistance.

Even faith as small as a mustard seed will grow and bloom into something huge, unexpected and beautiful. When we admire flowers for their beauty and delicate aroma, we don’t think of the battle they have gone through to get to their final form. As a tiny seed in the earth, she fought for water to grow, then she sprouted into a bud, searching hungrily for sunlight and hoping not to be crushed. The little bud grew more and more and soon she risked being cut early, being picked apart by the birds or  being trampled upon, but eventually the sun peeked out from behind the clouds warming the growing flower and she began to slowly blossom, each beautiful perfectly made petal slowly unfurling, unleashing bursts of fragrance, drawing people near to her and filling towns, cities, countries around the world with colour, scent and life. The little seed persevered, and she made it.

I’m trying to be a little more like the humble seed.  I’m trying to be more resilient, I’m trying to surrender to the soil, I’m trying to keep my gaze turned towards the sky, waiting, waiting, waiting patiently for the sun to warm this body, to fill me with life so I can finally burst into bloom. It might be in a month, it might be in a year, it might be in a decade, and it might never come whilst I’m on this earth, but I will continue to fight against my fear of the future, focusing on the here and on the now and letting the troubles of tomorrow be dealt with then. Keep looking towards the sky my friends, do not look left, do not look right, just keep on doing what you need to do to, timing is always a funny thing. As always much love and light, you’re doing ok, you’re doing ok.

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