Sometimes in winter (which it is now), when it’s sunny (which it was yesterday), I go upstairs to the bedroom in the late morning to make the bed after it’s finished airing. But as I enter the room, before I get to the bed, something on the windowsill stops me in my tracks.
There is the green green of the Mother-in-Law’s Tongue plant. There is the royal blue of the flowers on the cream jug. There is the shocking pink of the cyclamen. And there is the soft, low light of the winter sun shining through it all.
My breath catches in my throat. These colours, in this light. It’s so intensely beautiful that I simply cannot understand it.
I’m caught up in a whole feeling. I feel like I’m wrapped in delicate cream lace. I stand mesmerised and with tears in my eyes.
Winter can be a challenging time in many ways. But later that day I get to thinking that without winter, that particular moment of beauty couldn’t exist. The cyclamen doesn’t flower in spring and summer. The light is entirely different in the warmer months. That beauty was only possible in that moment.
I wrote this poem during a challenging time in the winter of 2022/2023. It came in a moment of realisation that here in the pain, there was also beauty, when I slowed down and was open and curious enough to let it in.
Don’t pray for peonies in winter.
Be wise.
Pray instead for clearer sight.
For fresh eyes
to see,
to recognise,
that here, too,
there is something beautiful.
Being in the midst of a challenge, pain, or struggle isn’t easy. But if we can orient ourselves towards finding the growth or beauty or gift that’s possible only because of the situation we find ourselves in, we give it a constructive meaning that can help us get through it a little easier.
I’m training myself to more consistently ask questions like these. I hope they’re helpful to you, too:
What gold is there to gather in the darkness?
What gift is hiding in the pain?
What is there for me to learn here?
How is this helping me grow?
What beauty exists only because of this experience?
For a softer version of these questions, substitute the words ‘is there’ for ‘might there be’. What gold might there be to gather in the darkness? What gift(s) might there be hiding in the pain? What beauty might exist only because of this experience? etc.
And speaking of beauty, today I promised art and art I do have for thee!
All summer long I yearned to paint the beauty of the flowers in the garden. The walls here in the house are still waiting to be painted. Still waiting to be adorned with artwork. But I had begun to have visions of what I imagined. And what I imagined was bright, bold florals, just like these!
I’m delighted to finally release these two pieces!
Friendship Bouquet (yellow background): I designed and named this painting based on a bouquet I received from my neighbour in the summer, handpicked from her gorgeous garden. £250, including tracked postage.
Daring Joy (blue background): I designed and named this painting based on the feeling I’ve been having lately of reclaiming a deep sense of joy in life and seeing the beauty in all things. £220, including tracked postage.
Available for shipping to the UK only (so soooory!).
Painted in professional grade gouache on the luxurious deckled edge Arches Aquarelle paper. Can you believe this paper has been produced with pure French stream water in the same mill since 1494?! It’s made from 100% cotton fibres and is both acid and chlorine free. It’s archival quality meaning it will not turn yellow with age – hurrah!
Both paintings are A5 size (148 x 210 mm | 5.8 x 8.3 in)
Each painting will go to the first person who emails me to claim it as theirs! Just quote the name of the painting you’d like in your message. I’ll then furnish you with a PayPal link to seal the deal and will then package and send it off to you.
A short while later, you will be in possession of a gorgeous new piece of artwork, to keep for yourself or give as a gift 😉. My hope is, wherever they end up, they’ll remind whoever sees them of the beauty of life.
Love, courage and BEAUTY,
Leah
