I'm shoveling Vitamin D into my mouth and trying to stay positive, but things are looking bleak. I just want to eat dinner outside. To run without having to thaw myself out in the shower afterward. To have fat little girls in towels sprinting by my weedy garden.
A friend wrote to me about how this spring would feel emotional. It's hard-earned. Spring is always that way for me. I look forward to it so desperately, but it also gives me this whiff of PTSD, because many hard things have happened in spring: losing someone I love, giving birth twice. Spring has meant profound sadness, pain, sleepless nights, muddy roads, late snows...and also the great joy of big loves and new growth and garden planning and bright sun.
I guess it's an annual moment of catharsis for me. I'm led to the brink. I get sad. And then there is a purging of sorts, a kind of renewal.
So enough of that New Age-y perspective. Let me climb out of my purple sweatsuit and put the healing crystals aside and GET OUTSIDE IN MY FLIPPIN' GARDEN.