Why I Celebrate the Small Things...

Dearest brave hearts, What a week it’s been. Not so much one of those roll through the motions, usual juggle variety, more one of those major stretching and heart expansion kinds. In one 24 hour period, I learnt of the loss of a dear human from my childhood, had a friend diagnosed with cancer, and was treated to the most beautiful tea party for my extended birthday in the new Butterfly Garden at Maroochy Botanical Gardens. Life comes all together sometimes, doesn’t it. It’s not a drop by drop, chewable mouthful kind of offering. How often we find ourselves in feast or famine, fire or flood, paddling somewhere in the ever changing tide of life as we do our best to process and draw nourishment from the experiences we are living. When I was young, I believed life would become ‘digestible’ when I grew up. I thought becoming a grown up would mean I had influence over the heartbreaks and tragedies of this life. And it has, but not in the ways I expected. I thought diligence and sincerity would insulate me from more tragedy and unbearable heartache. Hell, sometimes I still want to believe this is possible, but mostly these days I know everything comes together, and the best I can do is befriend the ‘not quite rightness of life’. The finish line that will finally give me permission to rest, experience peace, and carve out spaciousness, I’ve stopped looking for it. Instead, I seek these things breath by little breath. Imperfect moment by imperfect moment. I’m getting better at welcoming life on life’s terms, which in the fine print says, “Ultimately, beyond your best efforts, everything is out of your control, but don’t lose sight that it is also a loving and kind universe.” I’ve left the kitchen messy today so I can write. That’s the imperfect gift of spaciousness. I let myself cry for a few hours through the night over the human I lost this week, and that was the imperfect gift of tenderness. I am welcoming my tiredness today, reassuring myself I can have a nap if I need to, and this is the imperfect gift of kindness and peace. I’m getting so much better at giving myself the gifts that I really need, the ones that truly matter. What gifts have you given yourself this week? I’d love to hear. You know what else today is? It’s our wedding anniversary. The kids laugh and say, “You guys have too many anniversaries,” and maybe we do. But we like celebrating the special things. Our wedding anniversary is important, but no more important than our first kiss, or the first day we climbed a tree together, or… I understand why the kids question us, but I secretly hope that they are infected with celebrating the little things too. Imagine a life where each day was a cause for celebration. A day where we remembered simply being on earth, no matter the heartbreak or challenge, was still a precious gift. This is the life I aspire to. My calendar is filled with countless ‘silly’ celebrations. For example: Pearl made dinner for the first time (hummus and crackers in the bath) 1 April 2012 Freya told someone her name for the first time 11 am 10th May 2013 Pearl sold her first vacuum (it was a long held dream) 11.25 am 23rd Feb 2026 Freya crawled forwards for the first time 10.15 am 11 May 2012 Pearl passed her L’s 28th August 2023 Freya whistled for the first time in the kitchen at Battery Point 6.30 pm 17th May 2019 Pearl’s first published book arrived 25th August 2021 Freya’s first night in the cot 26th May 2012 Found out we were pregnant with Freya Day 2 Dec 2010 Pearl’s first steps to me 30th November 2008 The little things are the big things in my world, and I will not seek permission to celebrate. Roberto is definitely one of my greatest celebrations. In most ways, we are entirely different. He likes the heat, I like the cold. He can handle crowds, I think I’m going to die if I get swallowed in humans or concrete or am too far away from nature. I am so sensitive that most days I wonder if I have skin. Meanwhile, he can pick up flaming bits of wood and rearrange a fire with his bare hands. When I get scared, I freeze and shut down. When he gets scared, he rises to action. I like the quiet. He loves to express. I hide when the storms come, he is outside, naked, emptying the sieves on the rainwater tanks. I am a wave, perpetually seeking the safety of his shore, he is an island, who has no choice but to accept the incoming ocean. On paper, it couldn’t work. In real life, it’s asked us both to grow more than we could have ever imagined. We have had to learn each other and our differences so completely so we can find a way to rest together. It’s been beautiful, terrifying, impossible, sacred, and everything else you could imagine. I question everything in life except this man’s capacity to keep showing up, to keep learning, to keep growing, and keep serving others. To keep loving, even when he doesn’t yet know the way. I never could have imagined this life I’m living in, but I find myself infinitely grateful for it every single day. In our marriage vows, in front of a small group of humans, we asked ourselves to commit to these practices. They may not have been an ordinary kind of request on a wedding day, but they have worked for us: We asked ourselves to undertake the practice of: Serving each moment exactly as it is with deep integrity and authenticity Surrendering to presence while using whatever arises in our relationship for the awakening of all beings Receiving everything in our relationship as teachings inviting us to awaken our hearts and expand our capacity to serve others Revealing ourselves fully in our relationship, surrendering to complete vulnerability, honesty, and listening without judgment Feeling and releasing all obstructions to presence, so we may reside in presence We have not managed this perfectly, but by geez we’ve done our best every single moment. We also shared these words and intentions on our wedding day: “We offer our commitment of marriage as a gift to the world and ask that our life together be one of joyful service for the benefit of all beings. May our presence be an illumined manifestation of the awakened heart. We dedicate our lives to acknowledging each moment as an invitation to awaken and expand our capacity to embody love and serve others. We undertake the practice of accepting each moment exactly as it is with the deepest compassion, honesty, vulnerability, and authenticity. From this moment forward, we plant these vows of honour and devotion into our daily life. With humility and sincerity, we dedicate our lives to enlightenment for the benefit of all beings so we may all be peaceful, happy, and free from suffering”. In a real life, tangible way, I can report we are still on the field, showing up the best we can, breath by breath, and still growing every single day. We don’t know how long our marriage will last. On our wedding day, we acknowledged that at best, one of us would die and leave the other, and this helps us to focus each day on living love, as time is finite and the end is unknown. I hope we get many more decades to grow, learn, and become the humans this earth needs. I pray we have the courage required to keep our hearts open, soft, and tender, and that we keep learning better ways of disagreeing and realigning our intentions and motivations. Happy anniversary, Mr Foster. Thanks for travelling this ever changing path with me. You are the least annoying human I know xoxo And thank you too, kind human, for being such a special part of our community and lives. Without you here, I’d have no one to share these ramblings with. Bless your brave and willing heart. Wishing you soft tea parties and beloved friends when the heartbreaks arrive, and relationships that keep evolving and blossoming year after year. With love from my sensitive, courageous heart to yours, kmf xo © Kate M Foster. All rights reserved. An Invitation To Trust™ This is a public episode. 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