Iām pacing down the footpath, a dog lead in one hand and tissues in the other ā because yes, spring hayfever does not care about life choices. My eyes are watering⦠partly allergies, partly gratitude.
For the first time in what feels like forever, Iām walking the dog.
Not rushing out the door for a 7am meeting.
Not glued to a screen answering urgent emails.
Not living life in the small cracks between stress and exhaustion.
Just walking. Just breathing. Just⦠being here.
Minnie trots ahead, proudly showing off her summer coat, shiny, soft, and completely unaware sheās become the mascot of my comeback to living. Three years have slipped by since Iāve done something as simple and sacred as this daily ritual of movement.
And as I watch the kids run ahead, laughing over who gets to hold the ball next, something hits me:
I feel like I am part of my own life again.
Iām seeing moments I used to scroll past.
Iām hearing the conversations I used to tune out.
Iām rediscovering the man walking beside me, my husband, not as a co-parent in survival mode, but as my person.
This isnāt about slowing down. Itās about finally moving forward.
Leaving that high-stress job wasnāt a loss, it was a homecoming. A return to the parts of me that were buried under deadlines, performance reviews, and the constant pressure to be āon.ā
Now, the most important thing I show up for is right here on this evening walk:
⨠My family.
⨠My health.
⨠The little joyful things.
⨠The dog with the gorgeous summer coat who reminds me to enjoy the sun too.
Spring may set off my allergies, but itās also giving me a season of renewal.
And as the breeze carries a mix of pollen and possibility, I can finally say:
Iām back.
Iām here.
Iām living my own life again, one dog walk at a time.
