Finding what I didn’t lose

Back in the day, I served on a board with a woman who would encourage us to “have an attitude of abundance” whenever we were struggling with budget limitations. It was a mind shift that directed us to concentrate on and leverage what we had — to creatively expand the notion of assets instead of wallowing in what was missing. I’ve been returning to that thinking of late because I have found myself referring often to my “lost” summer. The move to Denver and everything related to it has been pretty all consuming, which meant that my time out in the wilderness, hiking trails, and photographing wild flowers was greatly reduced this year. I’ve been feeling that pretty deeply. Months of repeatedly packing and unpacking, living in transitional spaces where the cooking pans and vacuums and towels belong to my hosts. Yuck. And since moving, I’ve been mired in dust, noise, and a lack of privacy as teams of tradespeople bang out updates and remodels. Woe is me, right? Ridiculous. Eventually, I started feeling shame for all my dramatic reactions to the upheaval. What had I really lost? How can I lose something that didn’t belong to me? Kind of arrogant to believe the universe owed me a summer full of wildflowers and I had been somehow cheated. Time to look forward. Time to stop the lamenting. My new home and community offer so many opportunities and conveniences that I didn’t have before and I’ve only just begun appreciating all of that. When I consider the abundance I have, I also remind myself that the drought, sadly, meant this year’s wildflower season was early, short, and sparse. I’m fortunate that this is the year I didn’t get out much instead of missing the 2024 super bloom. So, universe, thank you. Nothing is lost. The flowers will come up next year. I’ll be ready. And I’ll be grateful.