Hey, life’s been a little different lately. In our house with a 20-year mortgage, there are two unemployed people... uhm well, if you don’t count the toddler. My mind’s been extra busy these days, wandering all over the place. What’s gonna happen to our future? How long is this uncertainty gonna stick around? And, why do the job offers that come in pay so much less for the same role and responsibilities as before? I seriously feel like swearing at the regime. I don’t need those 19-million padel courts, really.
It’s not like we’ve been doing nothing, though. My husband and I have been working every day on building something: an app that we hope will not only become part of our portfolio but also bring in income someday. Not an app actually, perhaps some apps? My husband’s a programmer, I’m a designer. A pretty good match. At first, it felt exciting because of spending more quality time together, feeling empowered because I got to dive back into the design rituals I’ve always loved (without any pressure from bosses or peers), and all those beautiful hopes that come with fresh ideas during our brainstorming sessions.
But whenever things go quiet, that uneasiness creeps back in. Uneasy about the uncertainty. Uneasy about the drastically changing cash flow. Uneasy about the lifestyle we have no choice but to scale down for now.
I keep reminding myself that this season (this slow, uncertain, messy season) might actually be teaching us something. Maybe it’s patience. Maybe it’s hard work. Or maybe it’s just learning how to keep showing up, even when nothing feels certain yet.Still, in between the chaos and calm, there are tiny moments that keep me grounded, like the sound of my daughter’s laughter echoing through the house, the smell of ice coffee in the morning, the quiet hum of the fan when everything else feels too heavy. Maybe that’s what this season is really about: learning to find peace in the in-betweens.
I don’t know what’s waiting on the other side of all this. But I do know that we’re trying. We’re building, we’re hoping, and we’re still here, together. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.
After all, we are trying our best, so wish me luck that I can keep seeing things with hope. I believe that Allah is the best scriptwriter.
This too shall bloom. This too shall bloom.
