March Resolutions

I've always thought that February was the hardest month of the year. Other than Valentine's Day, February is not much more than a lot of cold and snow and darkness. Typically, my cabin fever sets in around the first week of February and doesn't let up until the first buds of our spring flowers find their way through the frozen ground.

This year, however, has been a surprise. March is proving to be the month that I'm striving to endure. And what's weird is that March has been uncharacteristically warm; in fact, I've been able to run around outside much more than is typical for this time of year, thereby eradicating my cabin fever quite earlier than normal. And while our forsythia still haven't bloomed, the tulips and amaryllis are coming up out of the ground. Seeing those shoots of green growing out past the dead scabs of last year's flower glory usually fills me with a sense of hope and rebirth. The weird thing is, it didn't this year. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I wasn't ready for spring this year.

Not that I want another six weeks of gales of snow and ice, mind you. At our house, new growths of hardy spring flowers and the chirrupy light whistle of Papa Cardinal's song (that's the third year in a row that the cardinals have returned) are a most welcome sight.

What has been surprising to me is not that Spring came early, but rather how wholly unready I was for spring to begin, and I mean that more figuratively than literally.

It seems that something of the wind and the snow and the grey skies has found a kindred space in my soul. And though the spring sunshine has made a hearty attempt to banish it, I can't seem to shake the snow, metaphorically speaking, off my heart. I feel tired, lazy, quick to procrastinate and slow to act or respond.

Today I decided I'd had enough. It is time for renewal. It is time for resolution. It is time to stand up and be strong, and that means facing the day with a smile, with laughter, courage, love, kindness, and faith.

I know I'm speaking ambiguously. Somehow, the daily trials of my life don't necessitate specificity right now. It feels sufficient to me to simply say I have allowed the daily routine turn into a daily grind. And that stops today.

So here is my resolution: I choose a life that is more than that. I want to act, not be acted upon.

Here's to spring and new beginnings.

PS Which, in Lillian's case, means climbing up the slide. An apt metaphor, I thought, for today's post.