“It's spring fever. That is what
the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want—oh, you don't
quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your
heart ache, you want it so!” (Mark Twain)
You noticed right. I posted nothing in
April. My favorite month, my month, “the cruelest
month” that it is, I had no inspiration. Not totally true – I
just stopped breathing there for a while, in awe of this life, and
this world around me. And I had to be quiet for a bit to take all the
awesomeness in.
Anne Lamott says at one point that “in
Easter — and Passover too — something that happens is that we
stop. This is the 'dark
night of the soul' stuff that John the Divine writes about; that in
that stopping we may fall into an abyss that we have been trying to
outrun since we were little children. (…) But in Lent, if you are a
person of committed spiritual growth, you do stop.”
So, that's what I
did, I suppose – just stopped and observed the big world around me
with care, and keen eyes. It might be the last time I did – who
would know?! We're not giving precise expiration dates.
This April, was the
first time in as long a time as I can remember that I really was
happy about my birthday. Ever since I was in elementary school, for
whatever reason, my birthday was sad to me: another year, vanished
and not half of the things I planned to do are checked off the list.
So disappointing! Time running out, never returning to me. The mouse
in the wheel running out of steam. But this year, the world looks
different to me, from the other edge of the precipice that I just
hopped over in February.
Like an old poet
once said, my “doors of perception were cleansed” and the
“world appears now to me as it is – infinite”, and most
of all vibrant. I might speak in platitudes here, but
there is something humbling about your heart literally being stopped
for a bit. To come out of that and still see the light of day is
character changing and direction altering. How can it not be?!
As much as I
previously hated my birthday, I have always loved spring, and Easter
is my favorite holiday. They usually all fall around the same time. I
just love sitting still and listening to the life coming back in the
spring. The light this time of the year is the light of
Easter to me – given to us secretly in the dark church, at
midnight, like a big mystery that only we are chosen and fortunate
enough to partake into. I love spring because it allows me to enjoy
that light, of hope and renewal and “another chance”-ness with
every day, unlike the light of Easter, on Resurrection night, for one
hour at church.
This year, I
enjoyed spring slowly, with every flower, every bloom
that showed up in my yard. It's amazing how much time you have when
one is not working. I relived, again, every year of my life, with
every sunny hour and every tulip that popped open. Since facing death
a few months ago, my senses are sharper, and my attention is keener
than ever before. I realize more acutely that the end is in every
breath. Or could be. Therefore, I am that much grateful when I
outlive it. The leaves look sharper green, the sun is warmer and
brighter, the music is sweeter and every breath is a blessing. Every
touch from my loved ones is uplifting and gracious. I am so
unspeakably and undeservingly lucky!
Spring has always
been a happy awakening for me, a welcome gift of re-opening my heart
to the world once again and trying once more to do it right. For the
first time, this year, I associated my birthday with that sentiment,
as well. Took 41 years, but I am grateful I finally got it. I hope it
forever stays this way – such a gift to be able to awaken my soul
as the world awakens its own!
Instead of brooding
over the year past and what I did not get to accomplish, I now
cherish the simple fact that I made it over another threshold. I
cherish people around me, and the fact that they are on this side of
the dirt with me. Strawberries taste sweeter this spring, and the
wind in my wrinkled and wintry cold skin is a gentle kiss.
Rumi asked “What
is this heart? It is not human, and it is not imaginary. I call it
you.” Just like the Alchemist, I finally found
the treasure – it's always been here, it's always been inside me.
This year, I got to meet it. Full circle. Now, I am home.
*Note: Orthodox
Easter vigil started April 30th this year. Easter Sunday
was May 1st.
"April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land"
Shades and colors of my garden, in April.
"The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough"
