Hello friends,
It’s only been a month since I was last here writing to you, but in that funny way that time bends with the seasons, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, it feels as though it’s been much longer than just a few weeks.
Since I last was here, I’ve had the great privilege of travelling overseas to London with my family to visit one of my best friends and her family. We spent time roaming around the heaths, popping into pubs for a pint or two, and visiting castles and palaces with a history that goes back so far you can actually feel it when you stand in the same place that kings and queens once stood.
One such place that became a favourite of mine when I first visited it at the age of 16 is called Hampton Court Palace. The buildings, the gardens—they are exactly as you would imagine a quintessential English palace to be. In fact, if you’re watching Bridgerton on Netfilx right now, you can catch a glimpse of it.
Now at 41, I was back with my best friend and her family, the same best friend I had first visited Hampton Court with. As I walked around with my husband and kids through the palace gardens, taking in the beautiful flowers and lawns so immaculately maintained, passing by the herd of deer still kept that are directly descended from the same line of deer that were stocked for Henry VIII to hunt (when he got bored from doing other stuff like inventing a new religion and cutting off women’s heads), exploring the kitchens, chapel, and 500 year old halls and estate rooms, I was struck with a memory. Or maybe not quite a memory, but this funny feeling of things having come full circle in a way that I could never have possibly hoped for or imagined when I first visited there, all those years ago.
At 16, I was (and in many ways still am) a true, bonafide, hopeless romantic. All I knew at that time was that I wanted to climb out of the life that I was in, fast forward to full adulthood, and find a great love like the ones I imagined existed once upon a time at this palace. At the time, I didn’t have a vision of what that would look like, or who that person would be, but I knew in my bones that it was the only thing that I cared about achieving in my lifetime, and I knew I wouldn’t settle for anything less.
Funnily enough, while away on this trip my son James asked me about my boyfriends, wanting to know how many I’d had in my life, and who they were. By the time I had finished telling him about my entire romantic history, his response was “Wow, that’s a lot of boyfriends.” And it’s true. I searched for a long time, and with such conviction, that even when I found the thing that I had been seeking for so long in my husband and our family, I had been so used to “looking” that it took me a minute to see that I’d found it.
And that’s what struck me, as I walked around Hampton Court holding hands with my husband and watching my two sons run around on the lawn—25 years after my first visit there—that my 16 year old self wouldn’t—couldn’t—believe how beyond lucky I was. That it had taken a lot of trial and tribulation, but holy shit, I’d done it. It’s an incredibly strange, wonderful, humbling, and almost eery feeling to realize that you’re living your dream come true.
What I learned, or perhaps relearned, in that moment is that it’s so important to step back and take stock of what you do have. Because when you do, you might be surprised to find that you’re living the very real life version of a life you once only dreamed of.
Prompt Of The Month
This month, I would love to invite you to write or reflect on your life in this way and see what comes through. What dream are you possibly living that at one time or another was just a sliver of hope or a wish on a cloud? Perhaps you’ve forgotten, in the day to day grind, that what you’re getting to experience today would be nothing short of a miracle to an earlier version of yourself. Give these prompts a try and see what comes through:
What did my younger self used to wish for that I am now getting to experience?
What dreams have come true in my life, big or small, that I might have forgotten wishing for?
What dreams do I still have that I can send out a wish for?
June Offering: Solstice Yoga & Writing Workshop
If you’ve been on this journey with me for awhile, you will know that the Solstices hold a particularly special energy for me. I commit to marking them each year by spending the day holding space for the sacred shift in energy. If this sounds up your alley, I invite you to come join me for a special yoga & writing workshop to mark the Summer Solstice. This is a free session I’m offering as my way of giving back to my community.
When: Friday, June 21 at 12:00-2:00pm
Where: My backyard garden (Bayview & Davisville)
What To Expect: A guided session to align with the energy of the Summer Solstice, including a meditation and yoga session to prepare for a guided therapeutic writing journey to connect with your inner voice and help you set intentions to guide this next few months of the year.
Space is limited to 6 participants.
Email me at allison.mcdonald.ace@gmail to reserve your spot.
Final Thoughts
Upon returning home from England, I felt such a sense of gratitude for my life, it felt like my chest could burst from the feeling of it. The simplicity of my routine that one week prior felt exhausting, the smell of the air in my home, the quiet of my neighbourhood, the ease of just hanging out with my kids, playing and laughing, sitting and chatting with my husband who still somehow looks at me as if I’m new and shiny to him.
I wish it didn’t take stepping out of my life and travelling to remind me of these things, but I think that’s just the way of it. Sometimes, it takes that shift in energy, the pulling away from the daily life and grind, to be able to appreciate fully what you have. At least, it does for me. Sometimes, it takes leaving to be able to come home again and remember that, at one time or another, none of it was guaranteed. That once upon a time there was a very young and hopeful version of this person I am today who barely dared to dream that the life I’m lucky enough to lead—warts and all—could one day be mine.
Until next time…
All good things your way,
Allison
PS: Stay tuned for the next instalment of Self-Care Sunday with Allison for Today’s Parent coming out later this month.