Sunday, September 1, 2013

A Flutter of Spring

I have two favourite flowers. White tulips, as I absolutely love how they just sing of simplicity and beauty. My other favourite is blossoms, and they are even slightly more favoured than my wondrous tulips. They are celestially fresh. When I look at them it's like they are taking a deep breathe out of the cool spring air, as they gleam back at me in all their exquisiteness. 


A real photo taken by me of the flower arrangement on my desk currently.







S
Spring is a time of life, renewal, revitalizing, waking up from hibernation to discover that the world around you has transformed and a different kind of endless beauty garnishes the earth. Lightness embraces every corner of being, and nature is our greatest example through its budding pink and white truffled blossom trees adorning our land now. The earth is throwing a celebratory carnival. I am a spring baby, in fact, my 17th birthday is on Thursday, the 5th. 

I arrived back on Wednesday from Tanzania where I set out to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. For those of you that sent your wishes of luck my way, I thank you dearly. I summited, again. 
Yet making it to the top was only the sprinkles adorning a journey of a lifetime. I met the most incredible people, laughed more than I have in a (shockingly) long time, cried my heart out -of joy, awe, sadness to be saying goodbye and leaving, and I feel like my soul is radiating happiness, joy and love.
Afterwards, I took the time to spread the news to my friends about my reaching the top, and then also the news that I was taking two days of complete radio silence from any electronics and was going to be off the grid. Climbing up -not to mention climbing down- my beloved Kili is truly rewarding and incredible, but as my dad always says to people asking 'How Kili was?':
It is not a walk in the park.




It took efforts of an entirely different level from us all, so my two days of silence were days taken for few reasons; recovery, but then also to be with my thoughts, myself and then my family
(particularly my mother, whom I have not seen for three weeks). They were days I cherish in my heart because I had no-one to call or see, nothing To Do, or at least nothing I was Doing. I wrote in my journal, read Eat Pray Love, ate well, slept, and then just allowed everything to be.


























That's me on our third day on Kilimanjaro. We were above the clouds by the end of the second day, and wow, I'm on top of the world (note the pun *wink*). I arrived back home with a new awareness -one I will share in more depth soon. To put it simply, I have never felt so full of joy and so at peace.

However, I need to express that although this is a light filled time for me, I must reflect on a great sadness that has occurred. This morning my parents both walked into my room and told me that one of my classmates, a boy named Nicholas, had died last night. He had been diagnosed three weeks ago with a brain tumour, and, he didn't make it. I was utterly shocked, and today has been a day of silence and appreciation in our home. I've come to peace with it. I believe in celebrating a life and have decided to take this deeply grievous happening as a universal message to live our lives to their brims. 

This is something I came across today that I think voices my internal thoughts during this turbulent day.

























We honour our lost one's memory and life by living our own. Sadness is a natural feeling, and we are allowed to feel down. As long as we hold that person and their memory in our hearts with love, then we will be okay. It's also okay to be okay.

Anthea