This Spring has been a strange one for those of us in the north, but I think that has also been the case all over the map. It’s been indecisive, a little weird, but still following a decent trajectory. Not much has grown yet, though there are plenty of buds poking out around the tree branches. Definitely feels like a metaphor for my life at the moment.
Really, such is life. Am I right? Things don’t always go as planned — if ever. But it does go on and even with all the strange stormy winds and micro snow dumps, we all are taking larger strides through it toward warm summer months. The buds will bloom. It reminds me of the final weeks of pregnancy. Sometimes, we women feel like we truly will be pregnant for the rest of eternity — but it isn’t true. That baby will come out one way or another.
I had a whole gameplan figured out for this Spring and coming Summer. I worked many hours trying to perfect and prepare and make known all these offerings I have to give, for now and for later. The plan was that when I was finished releasing everything into the wild, it would immediately gain attention. Immediately spark interest with at least two or three people, to start. However, it hasn’t worked out that way and, in fact, I’m already rethinking some of my earliest decisions.
The weird thing is, though, that I’m not upset or crazed with stress. There is some stress, as one of the weird things about my world right now is inconsistent sustainable income. Overall, however, I’m feeling very sort of “que sera sera”. I’ve made the conscious choice not to focus on the things that aren’t working, and to focus on the creation of what I do want to come to fruition.
I think this is a large bit of evidence as to the impact seasonal living has had on me. Other than my usual mantras that remind me of God’s provision and presence in my life, I’ve found myself looking to nature to help guide me. What do I mean? Well, the other day, someone unveiled something very hurtful to me and, after spending some time to mourn, I looked to the sunny exterior of my home and stepped out to it.
The healing sunlight, peaceful twittering of birds, and playful children reminded me of the underlying constants, despite whatever curve-balls people might throw. The constants being the things mentioned above: Spring will come. Babies will emerge from their mother’s wombs. My children learn and laugh when they play. The sun shines on the things open to it. People come and go. I am only in control of myself.
More than all of this, I believe the things we pour energy into will blossom. We must only be careful as to where we aim the watering can.