Second Bloom

A blue bird wakes her up.

She heads to the porch with coffee.

She leaves her phone on the table, remembers what it feels like to lose track of everything.

At lunchtime she hears the bird call again.

She sits outside, sees a neighbor and talks for an hour, gives the conversation her whole attention.

In the evening, when the sun has turned the sky a brilliant mixture of peach and purple, she looks out the window, thinks about the world and how to enjoy it.

Now, when she wakes, she follows in the path of the bluebird. Whether at work, or at home, or in some foreign place, she looks for the magic that is a friendly smile or a sweet sunset. A pause in the chaos of life.

How precious and short is the time. We get so little of it to explore so much around us.

My first post.

For my whole adult life, I’ve wanted to live a slower, more meaningful life. One that is different from what my father and mother lived. They worked long hours, took a once per year vacation to a state park, and didn’t participate in any hobbies outside of watching T.V. or reading the newspaper. Then I was born and their free time shrank even more.

I have only a handful of vacation memories: a beach trip with my parents and best friend in 2nd grade and another with just my mom shortly after my parent’s divorce. I’m not recalling this to say that I should have lavish vacations every year, but more so that enjoyment of life was not the priority growing up. It was survival. We had to make sure there was enough food to eat and the house and car payments we made. I witnessed my parents struggle with high credit card debt, bankruptcy, and being hounded by collection agencies to repay medical debt. There was no room for vacations or extracurricular activities like soccer or gymnastics. 

Seeing the hardship my parent’s faced due to money stress, I vowed I would never allow myself to end up in a similar situation. I didn’t want to live my life working nonstop and never making ends meet. Fast forward to today, and while not as dire, I haven’t exactly accomplished my childhood dream. I work an 8-5, with a grueling drop off and pick up schedule for my three young children. I’m divorced and I am in the process of paying off $16K in credit card debt. While I do own my car, I am not a homeowner nor do I have enough in savings to make it three months unemployed. My situation is an improvement from my parents’, but I’m nowhere near healthy.  

So what is this? Why am I writing about history repeating itself in a statistically predictable (and depressing) way? Because I want to accomplish exactly the title of this blog–my Second Bloom.

For the failure of my “first bloom” into adulthood, I can’t blame the economy (though I did graduate during the great recession and in the current year 2026 it is pretty rough with inflation and international conflict) nor can I point to unrealized earning potential (I make a living wage). What I am going to attempt to correct is the generational trauma and bad money habits that have plagued my family so that my children won’t end up the same as me–just a little bit better, but not healthy. 

I’m a firm believer in the philosophy “It’s never too late” and while I don’t think that I’ll ever become a millionaire or somehow crack the code on how to achieve an “easier life,” I do have a stretch goal to retire by age 50. I’m currently 38, and that leaves me 12 years to not only catch up to where I should be for a typical retirement (age 67), but to SURPASS it significantly. 

That’s the American dream isn’t it? The ability to change one’s economic status through hard work and dedication? Let’s see if it’s true and if I’ve got what it takes to heal and break some cycles.