The Gift of Now

Catherine’s Journal Entry · July 7, 2026

Saying Goodbye to Texas

Today I sat a lot longer than usual, staring at the lake and noticing the sun and the birds.

We are moving back to Canada. It's happening quickly - expected, always, but still a surprise. I'm sad. As usual, I find myself wishing I had enjoyed it more in Texas.

But then I question why I say that — I did enjoy it!

Our family thrived there. The beautiful memories abound. The kids had wonderful years of school, playing sports, learning dance, competing in soccer and building friendships. They called it home for a long time. And now, it's time. And I can't push past all the feelings I'm having. There are many.

Allowing the Grief

Grief? Sadness? Loss? Allow it to emerge. Really feel and process it. We're saying goodbye to an era. A chapter. A phase. A life.

In some moments I feel ready, but in other moments I hold tightly to any piece of our southern life that I can grasp. I remind myself it's always going to be a part of me. Always.

It's a chapter. Closed, not gone. Remembered, not forgotten.

The Uncertain Middle

It's this middle phase that feels uncertain. Groundless. What's next? One phase released, but the next not yet clarified. One chapter closed, but the next not yet written.

When I try - when I breathe deep and sit still and feel inward...

I can sense contentment.

I can wrangle up hope.

I can feel the soft germination of something new. Emerging.

I can allow. Surrender. Accept.

As I do that, there is no greater clarity, but there is a lot more peace.

I don't need all the answers. But I do need to sit in my own sense of self and find love there. Love of life. Love of memories — past, present, and yet to be made. Love of our family. Love of the experiences we've had, the bonds we've built, and the ways we've shown up.

A Gift Long Overdue

Maybe that's all I need for now: to know my life, so far, has been well lived. To believe that stillness is strength. To allow the emotions through. To sift and settle on what was and what is, without straining forward.

In this realization, I find a gift. It's a gift I've been waiting to open. A gift I've known was mine but never bothered to unwrap. A long overdue, yellowing, dated gift that I'm ready to reveal to myself once and for all. It's taken a lot of life's ups and downs, griefs, sorrows, and celebrations to acknowledge it's mine...

It's taken this morning of remaining in my PJs until noon, staring at the lake and picking up my journal, despite the urge to be "productive."

It's taken a genuine interest in the matters of my heart, and the right questions - posed at just right time.

But I'm ready to receive this gift. The one that's been mine all along.

It's the gift of NOW.

Because of all that has passed and all that will come... there is only one moment that really matters. And it's this present moment that shapes a life.

As I gently unfold the corners of this beautiful gift, I realize its magnificence, and I want to savour its sweetness. It's bursting at the seams, jumping out of its box. It's jumping into my arms, asking to be held and fully embraced.

The seismic shifts our family has been experiencing can only be processed one present moment at a time. There is no reliving the past, except in laughter-wrapped conversations. There is no rushing ahead — that path is not yet clear. But there is so much beauty in the right now. There is nowhere I'd rather be.

Nowhere to get.

Nothing to become.

No one to be.....be me.

The Thread Between Yesterday and Tomorrow

As I finally learn and relearn to receive the gift of now, I realize that the adventures that lie ahead - and there will be many - will someday be memories of the past.

I feel the passage of time and the stoppage of time all at once.

And wildly, I acknowledge the linkage between yesterday and tomorrow - the threads that hold it all together. The foundation of yesterday holds the creations of tomorrow, and all of it is anchored in me, right here and right now.

To miss this moment - to let it slip by unnoticed, to blur my eyes or distract my senses - to push into productivity - would cause the whole thing to crumble.

Everything, and I mean everything, goes through the channel of the now. It behooves me to notice and enjoy it.

So, that's what today is about...that's what every day is about...being here and "in it."

“In all I do, I will be present today.”