Spring is here. The trees are blooming and the weather is warm.
“Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.
~ Yoko Ono
“Spring, which germinated in the earth, moved also
with a strange restlessness, in the hearts of… women.
As the weeks passed, inextinguishable hope, which
“Never cut a tree down in the wintertime.
Never make a negative decision in the low time.
Never make your most important decisions
when you are in your worst moods.
Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass.
The spring will come.”
~ Robert H. Schuller
hooray for the arrival of spring!
~ Hal Borland
Happy New Year! Once again.
As some of you may recall I love holidays and celebrating them. So I was very happy to see the wiki article about the celebrations for the Chinese New Year. There are certain things to do days before this holiday and up to 15 days to celebrate. Though some areas of China only celebrate for only two or three days.
Seriously, any holiday that celebrates the coming spring is very welcome to me this time of year. Tomorrow is another holiday of looking towards spring. I am looking forward to finding out about what the forecast is for an early spring. I would really like an early spring, but no matter what I am confident that I, from my safe home base, will be having lots of fun, reaching out for more people in my life, working on healing, going to therapy, reading, biking.
One of the things that I have loved for years and years is conclusion with the Lantern Festival. I love lights at night, so this has always grabbed my attention and been wonderful for me to see even just photos of.
I hadn’t made plans this year on celebrating, due to being sick. But in the next week or so I will try to do something fun for the holiday and to post about it. I will have to buy some tangerines and have a little celebration of my own, as well as a nice meal. I’m looking forward to that.
Today again I am hardly myself.
It happens over and over.
It is heaven-sent.
It flows through me
like the blue wave.
Green leaves you may believe this or not
have once or twice
emerged from the tips of my fingers
deep in the woods,
in the reckless seizure of spring.
Though, of course, I also know that other song,
the sweet passion of one-ness.
Just yesterday I watched an ant crossing a path, through the
tumbled pine needles she toiled.
And I thought: she will never live another life but this one.
And I thought: if she lives her life with all her strength
is she not wonderful and wise?
And I continued this up the miraculous pyramid of everything
until I came to myself.
And still, even in these northern woods, on these hills of sand,
I have flown from the other window of myself
to become white heron, blue whale,
red fox, hedgehog.
Oh, sometimes already my body has felt like the body of a flower!
Sometimes already my heart is a red parrot, perched
among strange, dark trees, flapping and screaming.
~ Mary Oliver
From “Five Points”
Volume 6, No.3 2002
it comes with
snow filled days
dark rainy drops
down the back
of your neck
cold and dark
in a sunken mess
of grass and sog
how is this
in your mind
winter behind you
“And winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face
a dream of Spring.”
from the movie Groundhog’s Day
Before the change from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar the new year was celebrated near after the vernal equinox, March 20th or 21th, on April 1st. For some reason and perhaps it was a good one, though I don’t know what it was, the Gregorian calendar celebrates the new year at the beginning of January. But I doubt it was a good enough reason to go against nature and the what seems to be the natural order of things.
I’ve always felt as though spring brings in a new year. These last two years even stronger. It feels like a lovely spring here with a lovely new feeling in the air. Tomorrow I’m going to go out and ride my bike and have a good time and pretend that we have recently entered into a new year. It just feels right to me.
I’ve been dreaming of nicer weather for some time. My only bike, at the time, died in early December, so I was more housebound than I had planned on this winter. I was doing okay, except for days that were warmer or I was feeling sick, then my cabin fever would emerge. I would dream of going to the coffeehouse. I miss going to the coffeehouse so much.
It’s been nicer weather this past week and I’ve been enjoying it. A few days ago I sat outside with a dog. The sun was out and within a few minutes her fur was warmer and I hugged her and felt so happy. I’ve missed throwing the ball with her outside, but slowly we are retrieving some fresh air time together.
I rode about three miles on my bike one day recently, doing some errands, going to the library, and stopping for a snack. For the first time in a long time I rode my bike with my jacket unzipped and with no hat or gloves on. It was so sweet.
Spring is almost here. I always find myself at this point. Spring is almost here, but it isn’t here yet. Snow is expected in less than a week. I don’t want to hear about that. I don’t want to think about that. But snow will come nonetheless.
I’ve been thinking over many other springs and what they have meant to me. I love spring. It is my favorite season of the year. I love getting outside more, feeling the sun shining on my skin, warming me. I was thinking of times I played outside in the spring as a child and all the springtimes since.
I want to say I survived the winter. But the winter isn’t over with yet. I want to jump up and down and celebrate. But the time for that has not yet arrived. I want to honor my survival and what I have done with my life in the past six months. A little more patience and I can.
For the time being I will reflect on something that helped me get through many winters in my life and in my healing. I remember when I found the book The Tree That Survived the Winter by Mary Fahy. I got it from a used store and took it home.
It looks like it may be a children’s book, but it isn’t. It’s so much more. It’s a book on healing. A little tree wakes up one day to greet the arrival of spring. As she honors her survival of winter, she looks forward to all the joys of spring.
We loved this book. It touched us deep inside. I found it when I was working on being a ritual abuse survivor and having Dissociative Identity Disorder in therapy. I found a lot of resonance in the book. There was a lot that I could relate to. My childhood was winter, one year after another.
So we brought it to therapy and asked our therapist to read it to aloud during the session. She read it to us. We sat close to her and were overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude and love for her. The book ends with the tree celebrating and sharing it’s survival with the sun, the sky, and the evening star.
My therapist looked at me as she finished the last page. She said, I can tell this book moved and touched you. What about it do you relate to? I started crying, I told her somewhat difficultly through the tears, I survived the winter.
I survived the winter. We all have. Happy Spring.
We got about a foot of snow recently. I love to sit and watch it coming down. I really do love snow.
I hate trying to get around in the snow and ice, especially the ice. I really do hate the snow and ice on the roads and sidewalks. I plan my life around the snowfall. Sometimes I do that about the rain too, but I try to not take a rain forecast and plan from that, but if it is raining all day I have been known to not go out biking.
So I was out shoveling the walk from the house out to the sidewalk. It was pretty snowy, cold, and windy, not a very nice experience. The wind was blowing hard and so the snow was coming down at an angle. One of those angles that hit the snow in your eyes and makes you hope for spring.
Suddenly I heard it. One of those spring birds. It was singing. I hear them in the warmer months when I ride around the lake. They sound kind of like someone doing morse code, odd dots and dashes, uneven. I love to hear them when I am riding. I stopped and listened.
After I went inside I kept the door open, with the screen door closed, just for a bit, so I could hear the bird singing.
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invinsible summer.
~ Albert Camus