And then you buy groceries

It’s Friday morning and, after everything that happened this week, I’ve woken up exhausted.

Earlier in the week I passed my viva, formally completing three years of work to qualify as a counsellor. It was the culmination of hundreds of hours of study, clinical work and supervision. A big achievement, followed by happiness, tiredness, ordinary life and the slow process of absorbing what had actually happened.

Wednesday evening, earmarked for a family celebration, coincided with the eclipse. It made the occasion more memorable: the peculiar light, something much bigger going on above us and then the sky quietly settling back to normal before sunset.

Thursday was A-level results day and I found myself thinking about the range of emotions being felt by students, parents and teachers across the country. The timing reminded me that I was certainly not alone in this strange in-between place: looking back at the road travelled so far, taking in what had changed and beginning to look towards whatever comes next.

By Friday, I was catching up with the rest of my life and realised how quickly significant moments can become another thread in your life’s story.

It is like this: you spend years working towards something, then one morning somebody tells you that you have passed. You celebrate. Two days later you are buying groceries.

And yet, something has happened. Something has shifted, even if everyday life carries on around it.

Let yourself register the moment before moving on: I did this. This mattered. Something has changed. And then go grocery shopping.