Flowers in the Ocean

Everything you deserve is on the other side of hard.

Looking at the waves gently crashing onto the shores, I stood on grains of sand, feeling every bit of earth and the weight of a life I’ve contemplated for years.

Silence.

Tranquility.

Anxiety is fighting its way through the much needed stillness this ocean is working to stir in my soul, but the warm sun and the soft breeze put a temporary pause on my worries for a moment.

Another season of question marks. Another season of uncertainty.

I prayed for this, though I should have prayed for an extra side of courage to accompany the massive bet I made on myself.

It’s imposter syndrome, I feel.

I’m too old to start over.

What was I thinking? Why would I make this bet?

This world is filled with more talented writers, those who can stir the emotions of thousands, wake their passions, and inspire their futures. They deserve to be celebrated. They deserve their flowers.

But me? I’ve got a history of going just far enough to show promise before retreating and letting others take the lead.

I’m the one with ideas, but ideas don’t pay the bills. Anxiety says, “Their flowers weren’t meant for you.”

Overwhelmed.

I’ve lived as if there’s a finite number of seeds to be planted. Seeds that turn into iris, lilies, and even beautifully bright sunflowers — as if somebody specific holds these seeds, curating their paths and dictating who gets to celebrate success.

I’ve lived as if I don’t deserve to be among the beauty of butterflies and bees, all admiring the colors I’ve been too afraid to see.

How silly.

How small.

How unfortunate to turn away a bouquet because I don’t feel worthy enough to hold it.

But these waves know me well.

Their ancestors have seen my face on this very beach, with this very look. A look of determination and hope, ready to dive straight into these waters and build the life that I’ve prayed before. A life that’s felt safe on the paper where it’s lived for years.

Me and the Ocean, we’ve talked before.

I’ve poured my soul into these waters, silently sharing my dreams for my daughters and hopes for my family.

Dreams of breakthrough. Dreams of a legacy. Dreams of the deepest blues, the richest reds, and the lushest of greens.

In the midst of meditation, the waters said, “Everything you deserve is on the other side of hard. Move through your surface, dive deep, and explore your waters.”

I stepped back feeling inspired and invigorated. Ready for the other side of hard.

And then I settled… falling into a career that felt safe and secure until my safety net tore through the bottom, landing me back here in front of this ocean.

Back on these same grains of sand.

Back in front of the breeze while the waters look to me and say, “I’ve told you this before: Everything you need is underneath these waters. You deserve a chance to grow your bouquet.”

Every day, we’re reminded that life is too short not to pursue the callings we have on our hearts.

Sometimes, it takes the calm splash of waters that once raged down deep to understand that a life filled with regrets is no way to live.

My anxieties have gotten the best of me for far too long. I need the best of me to shine on the seeds, creating fields of breathtaking landscapes.

Just as the ocean remains, I deserve to show up for myself again, and again, and again until I can truly tell myself with a straight face that I loved myself enough to grow in my vulnerability.

One way or another, tomorrow is coming. The sun will rise, and the earth will be ready for me to take my next steps.

These seeds will find their way to the soil, somehow, someway, and somebody is going to harvest these flowers when they’re ready to bloom.

Anxiety is losing its grip on me, replaced with a nervous joy I feel in my toes.

Their flowers weren’t meant for me, as it’s time to grow fields of my own.