The Wooded Oasis

I open the door to my back deck, and step onto the faded green planks of wood. The sun gently meets my face as I turn it upwards to the sky.

I close my eyes and feel its warmth, listening to the sounds surrounding me. Chickens, clucking away as they peck at the bugs in the grass below. Wind, blowing the branches on the pine trees. Kids, laughing as the swing reaches even higher. The buzz of a chainsaw in the distance, as my husband cuts down a tree.

Peace. That’s what I feel here.

I have everything I need.

I call our home my wooded oasis - it’s our place away from the world, where we can just be. Protected by the trees, spending our days how we wish: together. 

I remember a day when my days looked far from how they look now; a day when peace was the last thing that I felt in my own home. Instead, there was the rush of life around me, never feeling like I had enough time or energy to do the things that I desired most.

While this change didn’t happen overnight, it’s a process that I would go through all over again just to be where I am today. Waking up with the motivation, love, purpose, and belonging in my life is something that I only used to dream of having; now I get to live it.

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This is an excerpt from my Substack, The Wooded Oasis. I write about motherhood, depression, identity, and what it means to truly be happy as a mom. To read the rest of this post, and catch up on all the ones before, click here.