It was my son’s 10th birthday. He got fantastic presents in the morning, especially from his siblings (I was truly touched!), and we all went to a farm with lots of animals, play areas and activities. Plenty of fun!

It was his choice to drive there, but as soon as we all joyfully entered through the door, the birthday boy said:

“I don’t like it here. It just feels like an ordinary day.”

“We’ve just arrived, it’s going to be fun!”, my husband and I reassured him.

But with every minute Marcel got gloomier and less happy.

Even in his favourite soft play, where my husband chases all three of them in a sort of ‘tag game’, my son stopped playing and came to me after a short while, devastated, saying that he wanted to go home.

Now, it is a BIG moment for a mum when your child is not happy on his birthday. It pushes many buttons in you. From sadness and despair to anger. From wanting to fix it, to knowing that allowing all his emotions is the most important thing. There were moments when I thought I didn’t have the space within myself to embrace all of that, as it was happening in me so quickly. Fluctuations of emotions and lots of sensations in the body. When I managed to centered myself, I asked:

“Would you like us to help you shift your state, Marcel?”

“No,” he answered.

“So, you want to stay gloomy.”

He nodded.

“That’s OK,” I said in a soft voice.

We decided to go for ice cream.

Marcel didn’t want any. When Sylwester took Aliya and Wiktor to the café to choose the flavour, I asked Marcel:

“Do you really don’t want an ice cream? They sell such yummy ones!”

“No, I don’t.”

“We didn’t have to spend an afternoon here,” I said.

“But I wanted to.”

“You know what? As soon as we got here, you made a decision that you are not going to enjoy yourself.”

“I know.”

“You can always change it.”

He paused, then said:

“Mum, can we still go back and see the animals and play? I decided to enjoy myself. I decided right now.” And he smiled a bit.

“Of course we can.” I smiled back.

“Wow, I feel as if we moved time now!” He started beaming.

“We can always begin again!”, I added.

“So, maybe you quickly join dad and choose an ice cream for yourself, as I think we won’t be getting any more ice cream this season.”

“OK!” He jumped off the chair and quickly ran to the café.

And that’s the beautiful thing about life – we can always begin again.

Can you give yourself permission to start again – to begin anew in the area of your life where you need it most? You can start with one small thing. Today. Right now. Even if you’re afraid.