The easy part is the photo. The confusing part--that's everything else.
The return to health in this household--and now, health coverage in the U.S. for a group that's the size of Canada's population--are offset by other stuff. Layoffs and furloughs for loved ones, meetings and fatigue, "now what?" rock/me (or us)/hard-place scenarios.
Spring is coming. The grass is greening, birds are nesting, ice is melting. The season is at least a month ahead of schedule, in line with the calendar instead of where it belongs (fits and starts in April, a week or two in late May, another week sometime in June).
Meanwhile, I say "Uh, thanks for the gift, but doesn't that horse have awfully worn teeth?" as I think ahead to a dry lake this summer. Worry is forward thinking based on backward thinking. Worry is not forward motion; I do know that.
But perhaps worry, that back-forth-back-forth, that vibrational thing, is especially appropriate at this time of year, the equinox, when the days are (somewhere) (more or less) as long as the nights. Welcome as the light is, this time of year represents (gasp) change. Spring is a shift, made even more foncusing (that started as a typo and turned out to be cute) by Daylight Saving efforts, and it requires an analogous shift in thinking.
I sigh as the world walks from Yin Time to Yang Time. I put away dreams of what I was going to do this past winter. What I actually did is so much less than what I hoped to do. As ever.
I look ahead (not "forward," exactly) to spring and summer--short seasons here, demanding times. I wonder whether it's a good idea to slide some winter dreams into those seasons.
Probably not. Yang time is fleeting (though it can be exhausting to curl-up-by-the-fire introverts). It's best to accept its gifts with the frenzied joy of creation, the spirit with which they're offered.
But...but.
As my sister, and my sister Ella, say: Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most. Sing it, sister.
