That is the short version of why I have had no words recently.
As I dance around my kitchen each morning, in a style that can only be described as Spastic Muppet, my husband sighs. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING???”
He is not prone to fits of early morning exuberance.
“I AM DANCING BECAUSE SPRING!!!”
Apparently daylight is my favorite. The slowly increasing warmth of days is my favorite. The magic of every morning when I walk the dog, seeing new buds, new tiny bits of green, new blooms on old ShopRite bulbs I planted after they wilted post-Easters long ago…all of these are my favorite.
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Blue sky when I was doing
yoga on my deck a few days ago.
ALSO MY FAVORITE.
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The trees I can see outside my home office window are still brown and twiggy, but the edge of my weeping willow just peeks past the window frame, and just this morning I think the number of buds on that tree have doubled, lime green dots of happiness.
By contrast, I see how extremely I am affected by the change of seasons…the challenges of late fall/early winter’s darkness are so quickly forgotten when I get more hours of daylight. Not forgotten—but gosh I appreciate EVERY SECOND of spring.
Woo!
Even my house plants look so happy.
Well, the succulent looks all spindly and straining to the window. I have to Google how to re-pot it. Even a little poinsettia I got for Christmas is still blooming! Next to my spindly succulent is a little plant in a box, I think it’s some kind of kalanchoe?
Last spring, as I prepared to leave the only job I ever really had, my principal, a mighty, compassionate, wise woman, gave me this little flower as a parting gift, with her thanks.
This flower means a lot to me. No other administrative person, most of whom I have known for 20-30 years, most of whom have had many children in my classes—not one ever acknowledged that I left. Not one acknowledged I ever had even been there. Complete radio silence.
This is ok. It is, in many ways, a confirmation of things long known.
By contrast, that little flower means a LOT to me.
It sits on my kitchen windowsill, slightly tilted over the months of winter to drink in every speck of the western exposure’s light. The leaves are dark green and round, the stems strong…
And I realized the other day, as I came home from substitute teaching, tired but happy, that my plant has been growing like CRAZY. It is starting to get new blooms even, tiny white flowers that lean toward the sun. It looks…happy, too.
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| Look at all the Happiness! Tiny flowers on right... |
Whoa. That’s kind of a metaphor, no?
Growing, blooming, gaining strength—that parting gift from my principal is so much more than a flower, so much more than a sign of her gratitude for the time we got to work together. In a lot of ways, that little plant reflects so much of the last few months since I took my leap of faith—literally faith, I prayed so much to discern the right path. I wasn’t sure I could keep that plant alive all winter, but there are new leaves now, new blooms, new growth. In the first few months after leaving my job, I wasn’t sure I could make it work. I knew I’d survive, let’s not be melodramatic (she says for the first time ever). But I guess I did not realize I could grow, too. I wanted to think I could, but my deep-seated defensive pessimism lurks always beneath the surface of my aspirational optimism.
But—I am so much happier now. Even in the dark of winter—so much happier. And so grateful for everyone who supported me in my leap (especially my husband, my children, my extended family).
Spring this year reminds me that there is ALWAYS possibility for growth. There is ALWAYS at least a window to lean towards when a door needs to be closed.
A year ago at this time, Movin’ Right Along was a mantra I repeated to give myself oomph to do the hard thing I needed to do. THIS spring, I am so grateful to be Movin’ Right Along in a different way, more of a hey, not sure where I’m exactly headed yet, but the uncertainty can also be exhilarating too, getting there IS half the fun, and hey, FORSYTHIA ARE BLOOMING ALL OF A SUDDEN!
A little bit of space can provide a lot of perspective.
I can’t say things are perfect. Subbing has its own challenges—but they are the right challenges for right now, and that brings me a measure of peace, understanding that. I may not be able to create zen (still a bit irked about THAT reality), but acceptance and understanding of life are kind of what zen is all about.
If you feel stuck—if you are in the middle of a super dark place (and reading this and thinking SPRING YOUR FAT FANNY, KRISTIN!—I respect and resemble that) – hold on. Just holding on is huge. I have been there—in those moments where my life feels like an endless cycle of hospital time, anxiety, mom responsibilities, anxiety, work, anxiety, teenager troubles, anxiety, laundry, anxiety, oncology mom responsibilities, (anxiety)…the frustration of those seasons is so real. So many years of winter… but Spring will come. I hold on to that hope for you. Spring can’t make the bad stuff go away, but its light and warmth can give us the strength to keep going.
I hope for everyone a moment of seeing where YOU HAVE COME A LONG WAY! Learning, growing, doing the things—every day! You are doing it! Do you know how hard I am resisting the urge to quote a Barney the Dinosaur song??? GAH…
Instead—be proud of your own Spring, friends. YOUR growing. You are awesome. :)
