Showing up

This last week has been relentless. My son's year 6 prom. My daughter's fifth birthday. A princess rave party. And finally, after a long journey, my confirmation at church. Work has been getting busier too — I am gearing up to take on more responsibility, and at times the pace has felt like a tide that might carry me under.

And yet. I showed up.

Not the boss-mummy version of showing up, the one who ticks the boxes and keeps the schedule moving. The over-the-top version. The one who takes too many pictures. The one who cried at the look on my little girl's face when the princess walked in. The one who stood in church and felt something sacred settle.

Two years ago, even one year ago, I would have laughed if you had told me this would be my life. The confirmation alone would have seemed improbable. The willingness to be moved in public by a princess in a tiara would have seemed even more unlikely. I had spent a long time keeping doors closed, mostly because they looked like work I was not sure I had the energy for.

What I am learning is that the point is not to shut the doors. The point is to stay alive to the full beauty of possibility. The whole week required me to be present — really present — not in the performance of being a mother or a leader, but in the actual living of it. Deep breath. Return. Again.

Each of these moments could have been reduced to logistics. The prom could have been a suit and a lift. The birthday could have been a cake and a card. The party could have been a booking and a thank you. The confirmation could have been a ceremony to get through. But each one was also an opening, and I tried to meet it that way.

Work is no different. The responsibility coming my way is demanding, and some days it has felt relentless. But the same practice applies: take the breath, come back to the body, and respond from there rather than from the panic of the inbox. The capacity to be present is not separate from the capacity to lead. In fact, I think it may be the same thing.

So here is what I am holding from this week: I showed up, fully and imperfectly, and the moments met me. That is not nothing. That is the work, and it is also the gift.