How Lucky Are We

It’s been a big few weeks. There’s so much going on in the world, and I’ve found myself pulled into that helpless feeling more than once. But somehow, it’s also made me look closer at what I get to do every day. The way we live. The pace we’ve chosen. The people around me. The space we’ve created.

It’s not perfect. Some days are full-on. Some feel a bit too quiet. Some are messy in every way. But underneath all of it, I just keep coming back to how lucky I feel to be doing life like this.

Just that feeling of… this really means something.

How Lucky Are We

how lucky are we

to wake without alarms

and hear birds before news

to stretch into days that aren’t ruled by clocks

how lucky are we

to build something of our own

even if it’s small

even if it’s not perfect

it’s ours

how lucky are we

to learn beside our children

to follow their curiosity like a trail of breadcrumbs

through the garden, into the trees, across creek beds

how lucky are we

to know where our food comes from

to hold soil in our palms

and say: this is enough

how lucky are we

to wander the bush

without needing a reason

to find waterfalls

and breathe in eucalyptus and woodsmoke

how lucky are we

to watch fog lift off the hills

to feel winter in our chests

to notice when the leaves turn copper and gold

how lucky are we

to have space

to breathe

to dream

to belong

and to come home to each other

~ Jaya Fox