I'd just gotten off the phone and was processing some difficult news.
Not my difficult news, but difficult nonetheless.
And I was scrolling through the messages and photos on instagram (IG).
As a distraction. For something to do.
And I saw that someone had written a comment on one of my photos.
Their comment said that my life looked perfect, that I was living their dream.
At first, after reading that, I was a bit confused.
Here I was digesting some pretty crappy news and there they were telling me my life was their dream.
How could I reconcile these two?
I could feel my sadness taking over everything.
I felt certain that the first day of this week, the last day of their school holidays, would be a write off.
I just wanted to get home, and hide in the bathroom and cry.
As I looked at the trees with their glowing red and orange and yellow leaves.
As I saw my beautiful farmer boy come out to meet me.
I saw my life from the outside.
As a series of photos.
As a series of gorgeous moments.
And I made a decision to live today as if I were living in my IG pictures.
Because I am living in my IG pictures.
Then I ate the beautiful salad my girls made for me and the sourdough bread made by their Dad.
I spoke to my Mum.
I washed and dried our bedlinen.
I went back to the blanket and crocheted a couple of rows of my granny rug and knitted a bit of Bren's beanie.
And then my farmer boy grabbed my hand and we went for a big, long walk around our farm.
He showed me what the farmer boys have been doing and I felt proud.
And I took really deep breaths of the gorgeous Daylesford autumn air.
And I realised that I was happy.
That I am happy.
That I just have to look around or take a few pictures and I'll see it.
The crap stuff will happen from time to time and I fully believe in feeling it and acknowledging it.
But in amongst it, there's some pretty gorgeous stuff going on too.
Keep living your dream.
I'm going to do my best to remember that I am living mine. x