It's not the Ocean...

Max is riding his bike for the umpteenth time at the Botanical Gardens by our house. I'm trailing behind holding my Starbucks typing this note. Today as we pulled into the Gardens I was reminded how we used to walk the beach shores this often. I felt restored, refreshed and inspired at the beach. Not at the Gardens. Don't get me wrong, it's beautiful. It's just not me. I take nothing away from there. My soul is not shifted. My mind is not altered. My mood is usually not changed. I go. I enjoy watching Max and whatever other little one we have with us. It just doesn't have the affect the ocean does for me. It's effort to go to the Gardens. It's effortless to go to the beach.

Max switched to rugby now. No surprises there. He's been kicking for over ten minutes as I type and watch. I love seeing Max play and develop. I love spending time with him. I felt so off the last few days and as I sit here I realise a practical truth: the Gardens are not the Ocean. It's simple, laughable really. But the profound difference and the acknowledgment that my energy is not restored at the Gardens feels freeing. It feels refreshing even. I am finding the good and joy in this season in this city but its effort. A lot of effort. I would venture to use the word discipline. Discipline to write down what I'm thankful for and what I love. There's a lot. I just must make myself say them. I was spoiled living at the beach for so long. Life was challenging there for sure but I only must walk two blocks to recenter without forcing myself to say what I was thankful for at the moment. My heart just settled. Peace came. Hope rose up. Joy bubbled out.

I can't say I love the effort of this season. It's real though. It's the version of me in Dunedin. But I also believe that effort isn't always bad and produces something that is beautiful and hopeful. So while I walk the Gardens over and over and see the beauty that doesn't really fill me up I will remember that this is just a season and God is in the midst of it.