Chapter 33
Terra
After a long day at the clinic, I decided to stay late catching up on paperwork. The quiet halls soothed my tired mind after the happy chaos of patients and my energetic boys. I treasured these rare solitary evenings immersed in the mundane rhythms of organising schedules and filing reports.
A light knock interrupted my focused data entry. I glanced up to see Collins leaning against the doorframe, trademark compassionate smile in place. “Burning the midnight oil, I see. Don’t overdo it.”
I sat back, rolling my stiff shoulders. “You know me, can’t leave any task half-done. Did you need the office?”
“No hurry, just wanted to check in.” Collins helped me tidy scattered papers into neat stacks. “With all your tireless work around here lately, I worry life is passing you by. When was the last time you did something fun, just for you?”
I paused, caught off guard. When had I pursued any interests beyond work and parenting? The days slipped by so quickly, each one devoted to others. Trying to remember my last purely self-indulgent activity drew a blank.
Collins nodded knowingly at my confused expression. “That’s what I thought. You deserve joy too, Terra. Why not explore what makes your soul come alive?”
His insightful words resonated deeply, cracking open something I hadn’t realised lay dormant. Dreams that once burned within now only flickered faintly after years of putting duty first. When did vibrant passions become hazy memories?
Collins clasped my shoulder, interrupting my reverie. “Just promise you’ll take time for yourself soon, okay? Doctor’s orders.” With a playful wink, he headed out, leaving me smiling but pensive in the dim office.
His reminder lingered as I drove home under the emerging star What did I desire apart from the endless needs surrounding me? So much of life was only about reacting and surviving day to day. But what might I create if unburdened by obligations and expectations?
I realised how little space I made for personal growth and exploration, my focuses narrowed to work and parenting alone. But Collins was right – regularly refreshing my own cup was essential to keep pouring into others.
By the time I pulled up the winding drive to our secluded valley cottage, resolve filled me. I would make time for self- discovery and living vibrantly again, not just existing. My boys and work would only gain from my renewed passion.
Over the next weeks, I cautiously rediscovered the bohemian free spirit that had been buried under so many grown up responsibilities. On quiet afternoons, I painted again, fingers staining with brilliant hues that flowed onto the blank canvas. Some evenings, I wandered new forest trails under the rising harvest moon, paying rapt attention to each small natural wonder missed before in my busyness.
And always, glimmers shone through suggesting more still lay buried. My curiosity felt newly awakened, possibilities beckoning from just beyond the horizon’s edge. What else might I yet uncover in this winding adventure called life? The joy was not in arriving, but progressing through each moment’s gifts fully.
On a clear night soon after the autumn equinox, I wandered up the cresting hill behind our cottage after putting the boys to bed. Here I lay gazing skywards, marvelling as stars emerged in their celestial finery traced my favorite childhood constellations, naming them softly. Then gasped a brilliant streak of light shot overhead, there and gone in an instant.
–
My breath caught in wonder. I had forgotten the Orionid meteor shower peaked around now. And already another fiery flash crossed the sky, brilliant as a diamond against black velvet. Soon multiple heavenly trails blazed above as I watched spellbound.
I should wake the boys to share this, I thought dreamily. But paused, struck by the realisation that I needed no excuse. How often I denied myself experiencing life’s majesty fully on the pretext it wasn’t responsible or prudent? Only by opening to joy and beauty freely would my neglected spirit flourish again. This moment was mine to treasure, no guilt or sacrifice needed.
As I walked slowly back down the moonlit trail afterward, heart still soaring from the dazzling display, something. fundamental shifted inside. I understood finally that being a mother, healer and friend could harmonise with cultivating my purpose. My happiest memories were often solitary moments appreciating everyday miracles that cost nothing. Seeking more such touchstones would bless everyone I cared for.
With rekindled curiosity I explored long abandoned interests – astronomy, writing, gardening. And uncovered new passions like photography, yoga, hiking. Each activity lit up neglected parts of my spirit. I was rediscovering myself, and it felt incredible.
Of course my responsibilities are still called often, demanding much. But I began carving out small pockets of time devoted solely to my personal wellbeing. Even brief timeouts connecting with nature’s beauty or meditating brought renewed perspective and energy I could pour back into caring for others.
Sometimes I grew discouraged when progress felt slow, or guilty for focusing on myself. But I knew staying the course was vital. My neglected inner light could shine bright again, illuminating new possibilities. It merely required constantly feeding my own soul.
One luminous spring morning as I watched the boys scamper outside from the porch swing with a mug of tea warming my hands, everything seemed right in a way I hadn’t felt for so long. No matter what came next, in this moment I brimmed with gratitude.
My journey was just beginning, endless horizons ahead waiting to be explored. Wherever it led, I knew the path was right because it was mine. That was enough.
“How’s the surgery prep going. Lucy?” I asked my head nurse as I entered the clinic’s small but capable operating room.
Lucy glanced up from arranging shiny instruments on the metal tray. “Nearly ready, Dr. Terra. Just need to stock a few more supplies when the order arrives.”
I nodded, moving to help her finish the final checklist. My thoughts kept drifting back to the tense conversation with Collins two nights ago.
He’d come to find me after hours, face lined with worry. “Terra, we’ve got a major problem. Nathan cornered me at the hospital today demanding to know about three young boys who look just like him.”