Winter to spring

Dearest friends and family,

I have been thinking of you often and fondly during the past several weeks. Things have been wonderfully busy and rich with activity. I am exhausted but happy and fulfilled, so it's a good exhaustion. :)

And thus I finally sit down to write to you on this lovely Sunday morning, wet with the first of spring rains and smelling of our green garden, sprouting new growth with crocuses and daffodils poking their colorful heads up out of the ground. Spring and fall are my two favorite seasons and always have been. It's easy to love them - the thaw of the cold, hard, greyscale ice and snow, the technicolor explosion of gorgeous nature, the vibrant colors of autumn. Yet as I grow older and wiser, I have come to hate winter less. (I used to really hate it, but if you were constantly driving in blizzards like I was during my freelance years in Cleveland, you'd have definitely hated it too.)

Winter certainly does not provide the pleasing and aesthetic color palettes of spring and fall, and we are limited and slowed by the cold and the decrease in natural light. I used to suffer tremendous seasonal depression before I understood how to use winter to my benefit. In recent spiritual growth, I have become increasingly aware of our inherent connection to nature and the cycle of life as it manifests itself everywhere. For example, gardening, which has largely been David's initiative, has helped me to see how vital winter is if we want to see the growth of spring. This applies to our literal gardens of flowers, herbs and vegetables as well as our figurative spiritual, physical and mental gardens. We need to rest, to hibernate, to go inward and nurture our roots - just as the daffodils and tulips and rosebushes need that time to absorb their nutrients and slowly grow. Lately during the snowy, cold, dark winters, I have not expected to have the energy that I do during the spring and summer. Just relieving myself of that expectation has been energizing and liberating. Drinking hot tea helps, of course, and so do savory soups and breads and hot water bottles in bed. But the biggest and most transformative help has been accepting and understanding winter - and thus not feeling trapped, isolated, or oppressed by it.

And so I welcome spring, not out of relief that winter is over, but simply because it is where we are in nature's brilliant cycle of life - time for the crocuses to burst open in all their goldenrod glory and rich violet splendor. Time for us to plant tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, eggplant, herbs, and peppers. Time to spread rich composted soil on the earth, to dig our hands into the soil, and to water and tend gently to the seedlings. Happy springtime, everyone! (((hugs)))