Life-Lessons

Life-Lessons 

©2025 BTMT TARA-J

 

 Looking back over the last four years, everything has changed. The house is quiet now. The children have grown and gone their own way. The relationship has ended. Most of the family has drifted apart. What remains is silence—something I once craved, something I now meet with both gratitude and hesitation.

I remember those busy mornings when all I wanted was to stay in bed past sunrise without anyone needing anything from me. I wished for a day where I could simply rest in peace and quiet. Then one morning, that wish came true—and it felt nothing like I imagined. The stillness carried a weight I was not prepared for.

This morning, I woke up to the soft confusion of daylight saving time and the quiet hum of my own thoughts. The emptiness was there, yes, but so was a strange kind of peace. It is everything I wished for, and still, it asks something new of me.

There is freedom now. I do not have to share my pizza or fold anyone else’s laundry. I can fill my time however I choose. It feels indulgent at times, almost selfish, yet I know it is neither. This solitude is not punishment—it is restoration. It is space to rediscover who I am without the titles, tasks, or expectations that once defined me.

Transitioning from a life of constant responsibility—parent, partner, provider—to one of stillness has been transformative. It is disorienting at times, yet profoundly clarifying.
So this morning, I let myself be still. I looked around the room that holds the sun, the entire bed, and the pieces of my story framed on the walls. I allowed gratitude to rise quietly within me.

This life, this silence, this season—it is not empty. It is full of possibilities. I will keep breathing it in. Gently. Alone. With wonder for what comes next.

 

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