A Two‑Hour Journey From Winter to Almost‑Spring

I needed just two hours to travel from wintery Poland to almost‑spring London.

I love both places—the quiet, crisp mornings of Wrocław and the soft, early light that London offers in February. When I stepped out of the airport, daffodils in full bloom greeted me like a small, golden choir.

And in that moment, something simple and grounding settled in me: Nature doesn’t rush, doesn’t pretend, and doesn’t perform.

It simply continues—rhythmic, steady, beautiful—no matter our circumstances or moods.

Lately, my inner world has been heavy: the death of my Mum, caring for my elderly father, the ongoing struggle of my brother’s alcoholism—and, quietly in the background, my own long battle with cancer, a journey that takes years and reshapes everything. These responsibilities arrived suddenly, stretching my days and my heart in ways I never expected.

The Stoics loved nature for exactly this reason. They saw it as a teacher, a mirror, and a reminder that life moves in cycles. Winter is not a failure. Spring is not a reward. Both are part of the same whole.

As I walked with my suitcase, I realised I don’t fully know where I’m heading—not in London, but in my life. How to organise everything that now rests on my shoulders. How to move forward without a clear map.

And maybe that’s alright.

Maybe the point is not to know but to stay awake to the small signs:

• the flowers blooming earlier than expected

• the light shifting, almost imperceptibly
• the quiet change inside us when we move from one place to another

Today, I’m simply grateful.

For my family—there and here. For my friends. For the red roses my husband bought me for our 33rd Valentine’s Day together. For the good moments and the difficult ones. For the journey. For the contrast. For the reminder that even in uncertainty, nature keeps whispering: “You’re allowed to grow at your own pace.”

Have a lovely day, everyone!