I am writing this at my kitchen counter, glass of wine in hand, dinner dishes stacked high in the sink waiting for some attention. A voice in my head keeps reminding me that my large travel bag is still lying on my bedroom floor, in the exact spot I left it there on Sunday after arriving back from 19 days’ travel in the USA. The floor by my feet is strewn with children’s toys – an open jewellery box with a sleepy ballerina, done with pirouetting for the day; a plastic teapot ready to serve a tiny tea party, a slowly wrinkling balloon. Mr K is catching up with one of his superhero programmes in the next room, and the girls are sleeping upstairs. As I cast around my home, I could not be happier to be here.
Travel is amazing. Adventure is life-enhancing. And yet today, after so many days away, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, in the middle of the chaos of home. As I count down to my 40th birthday on Saturday, and look at the ‘state’ of my life, I’m feeling grateful for all of it. Even the wrinkly balloon bobbing around my feet. (You can read my personal essay on ‘Treasuring the chaos’ in the utterly beautiful Wildling Magazine here, for free)
It’s funny how sometimes the chaos can be a source of stress, and yet today it is a source of comfort. It all depends on how you look at it, and what else is layered beneath.
Whether or not you have children, I would like to encourage you to take a moment this week to find a way to treasure whatever chaos is going on in your life. Because mess births beauty. Chaos is progress.