Cha-cha-changes...

What is changing in your garden (and life, and soul) these days?

My first dahlia just bloomed in the garden this week. I was skeptical I would see one after a weekend of endless rain followed my (optimistic) early spring planting. The bulbs were drowned and seemingly lost. Not only that, but it feels quite late for a dahlia to *just* begin blossoming…right? Google confirms “most dahlia’s planted in spring begin to bloom in July.”

Honestly, I had almost lost hope for them. Once I noticed some small leaves emerge— about a foot away from where the original plantings went in the ground (and used my plant-identifier app to confirm they were indeed dahlia leaves and not the broadleaf weeds abundantly present in my garden)— I began to think there may be a chance. Months went by, and finally I saw a tiny bud. Just last week I texted my friend Elisabeth about the dahlias, as one in mid-life does, and mentioned “One is *just* about to bloom. I’m hopeful it will someday.”

All of the sudden, virtually overnight, it bloomed. One gentle pinkish-violet petal unfurling after another until a firecracker of fluorescence popped into flourish. Then, just as quickly, a second bloom launched into its wild climax. As I write, no fewer than seven additional buds look poised to blossom. In October.

What do my dahlias have to do with anything?

They mirror what my personal life has felt like for the past couple years…

My freshly planted and hopeful bulb was returning to graduate school in 2022. I was anxious to gain perspective and a foundation for a new season of my career. My big ah-ha moment came when I realized the next right step for me was building an off-ramp for my decade-long journey as an entrepreneur, and returning to a full-time (aka “normal”) job. And here comes the rain.

One hopeful contact-turned-interview became another. My list of cover-letters grew along with my feelings of discouragement. You know that episode of The Bear (great show, btw, if you haven’t seen it!) when Tina is looking for jobs and shows up to an interview only to learn they had already offered the position to someone else? That HAPPENED TO ME!!

Then after a long season of waiting, wondering if the bulb was actually a dud, suddenly, I saw a bud. And within days, a blossom.

I got the job!

After over two years of being very much in transition, I am excited (THRILLED!) to begin a new season of my career as a Public Health Nurse Senior managing employee health and wellness here in Richmond. I’ll be using my Registered Nurse background combined with my Master of Applied Positive Psychology, mixed with my Spanish language fluency and passion for building creative wellness programing to help people feel holistically healthy and well at work and at home. It’s a great fit!

A couple years ago, I started feeling the shifts and changes (some welcomed, some not) of approaching mid-life. I came across the oft-quoted Zora Neale Hurston line: “There are years that ask questions, and years that answer.” At that moment I felt squarely in the middle of a “year that ask[ed] questions,” curious what the answers might look and feel like. What changes lay ahead?

Have you felt like that? Do you feel that way now?

With this new job, the new blooming in my life (finally) feels like the beginning of an answer.

Of course I’m not yet certain of all of the details of what exactly my life business will look like moving forward. I do know I will be wrapping up season six of Practically Happy and taking a pause from the show. Maybe for a little while, maybe indefinitely. I am also pausing my in-person retreats while I focus on getting settled into this new role. Again, possibly not forever, but at least for now.

I am excited to remain connected through this regular newsletter, where I will continue sharing stories from inside mid-life, recommendations and inspiration for intentional living, favorite books and recipes, as well as occasional tips for flourishing in your everyday life.

My hope is to provide some candid and relatable moments to help you feel less alone and more connected in whatever hard and human experiences you might be going through. The middle can be really tough. The watching and watering, waiting and wondering if that flower will ever actually bloom. The middle is also where the growth really happens. Hang in there!

Warmly,

Miranda