Thank You Spring!

Spring, glorious spring- here at last! Each year I wait impatiently for the arrival of spring. Although the weather this winter has been bearable- our winter days have not been spent buried under layers of snow and ice like a few years ago, nor have we been subjected to a surprise string of March nor'easters like last year- I still find myself longing for the longer, warmer, sunnier days of spring. The extended period of cold, and persistent winter rain has taken its toll.  I am biding my time until the new season asserts itself with convincing clarity.

Perhaps more than the meteorological winter, the psychological winter has left its mark.  Spending months dealing with a nagging injury that turned into a more permanent problem, and coming to terms with the decline of my mother's health has made for a long, cold, and dark season. Spring is the season of light, rebirth, and renewal and that is what I crave right now.  I need to feel the warmth of the healing sun on my skin. I desire the energy of new life that comes from the blooming of long-dormant trees and flowers.  I yearn for the fresh wind of renewal that sweeps through and cleanses the air.  Can that energy and wind renew my mom's health? Can the healing sunshine restore the broken areas of my body? Sadly the answer in both cases is no, but the newness of spring always refreshes and restores my soul. 

 I look out my window and observe the mounting evidence of spring approaching- bulbs poking through the earth and buds swelling on the trees. When I go out in the morning, I am hyper-aware of the changes.  The air smells different.  The birds are starting to chirp.  The grass is turning green again and even the weeds are sprouting! My dog senses the changes too.  He wants to linger outside and sniff the ground and the air.  I wonder if he smells the same smell that I do- the distinct mix of earth and growth and dampness that signals spring almost before you can feel it. I watch the sun inch higher in the sky and I test for warmth from the sun's rays when I am outside. The lengthening days give me a needed boost of energy. When I am no longer bundled against the cold, I feel an extra bounce to my step.
 Spring will come.
 Spring is coming.
 Everything changes in spring. 

Everything changes and nothing changes.  My problems are still present.   My concerns have not gone away.  But somehow with the promise of spring, I am better able to accept and to cope with the realities of life. I am reminded that winter always ends- both the meteorological and the psychological. I am thankful that God gives us that gift. Renewal is always available- spring is our much-needed reminder of how beautiful it looks and feels to be renewed and refreshed.  The day will come when our bodies are healed and restored, but until then I will revel in the daily restoration of my soul.  Thank you Spring!

Happy Summer, But Why Am I Still Thinking About Winter?

"My scars remind me that I did indeed survive my deepest wounds.  That in itself is an accomplishment.  And they bring to mind something else, too. They remind me that the damage life has inflicted on me has, in many places, left me stronger and more resilient.  What hurt me in the past has actually made me better equipped to face the present."

- Steve Goodier

Happy first day of summer! Sunny skies, warm temps, lush green grass, and a multitude of blooming flowers. Can it be only a few months ago that we were wondering if spring would ever arrive? Thankfully it did and it now appears that the summer-like weather is here to stay (hopefully)!

Earlier in the week, I decided to take advantage of the perfect weather and walk on a trail that I hadn't been on for awhile.  Much had changed since I had last walked there in April.  Trees had fully leafed out, greenery covered most everything, and plants that were nonexistent then were now starting to encroach on the pathway.  As I looked around, all I could see and hear were the beautiful signs of summer.

But yet...

I still remember the harshness of winter.  I can easily recall the long cold days when darkness came too early.  The streak of grayness when it seemed the sun had forgotten to shine. I remember the unrelenting nor'easters of March.  The great delay in warmer temperatures and blooming plants.  I don't think about it often, but I do remember.  Is that wrong?

Should we look back and think about winter when we are in the middle of a glorious summer? Is it self-defeating to take ourselves back to an unpleasant time when we have the current pleasure of good times? I'm not sure.  I certainly don't want to dwell on the cold winter, but is it good to remember that it happened? Does it make us enjoy this summer more knowing what we had to go through to get here?  Is it helpful to know that not too long ago we had a horribly long, cold winter but we survived it? 

If we are to develop resilience, then we need to look back and reflect (not ruminate) on what we have overcome. When winter comes around again and I am feeling like it will never end, I can reflect on the fact that I felt this same way last year and winter did end, and I did survive.

Nature can offer guidance on this.  As I walked through the woods in early April, I could see all of the signs of spring- budding trees, early flowers blooming, birds chirping.  But I could also see the signs of a destructive winter.  Large trees pulled out of the ground, branches broken and dangling over the path, piles of debris from storms.  

 Nature does not try to hide the difficult season it has been through.  The forest bears its scars forever. Trees that are down will stay in that spot until nature reclaims them as part of the earth.  Branch piles remain until they break down into rich soil.  Damaged and misshapen trees continue to stand or lean until they grow tired.

But as time moves on, nature eventually does its work.  Greenery grows, groundcover thrives, and the forest begins the process of reclaiming itself.  The damage becomes less obvious.  The new growth conceals the sharp edges and jagged branches of the damaged trees.  But if you look closely, the scars of winter remain. Nature manages to quietly acknowledge the past while continuing to move forward steadily into the future.

There is a purpose to that. Nature's clean up crew is slow and subtle.  It wants us to see the process, to see the work.  Nature wants us to know that there was once destruction, but "I am doing a new thing!  I am restoring the forest, bit by bit, day by day!"  If we only focus on the beauty and don't look back at the difficulty, we miss the sacred process of renewal, and we miss the gift of restoration.  

Winter may have left its mark, but we have triumphed.  Spring did its thing! Renewal is underway! 

Winter is the example I use here and thankfully we know each year that it will end (eventually), but your personal winter can be any difficulty you've experienced and the end isn't always as guaranteed. When we look back on hard times, we have a choice in how we view the story.  There is power in revisiting the negative event with fresh eyes.  By looking back with purpose we can see:

1-  What we have overcome

2-  What we learned from the experience 

3-  How we have been restored (or how we are still being restored)

This is how we build resilience. When we experience negative events but can look back and see our personal growth, it helps us to view difficulties differently in the future.  Resilience reminds us that we have been through tough times before and we have survived.  It reminds us that we have reserves of strength that we are not yet aware of,  that we are capable of dealing with far more than we think we can, and that we can bounce back from situations that seem insurmountable at times.   

The scars of winter may remain, but the flowers of spring are already starting to grow.  Wait and watch for the restoration and take time to congratulate yourself on surviving another winter!

*Speaking of summer--if you still need to buy a swimsuit, read my post before you go. Consider it a public service announcement ;-).

Swimsuit or Bust

http://www.musingsfromthemidlife.com/2018/03/swimsuit-or-bust.html

Hope, Faith, and Gardening

This week, I headed outside to tackle some spring yard work- cleaning up leaves, picking up sticks, trimming shrubs and grasses. Yes, it was still cold, and yes, there were still piles of snow here and there; but the chores of spring wait for no one. These aren't always my favorite tasks, but as I am clearing out the old I get excited by the new growth and I'm reminded that spring is really coming regardless of what the thermometer says.

Over the years I have had a lot of wonderful successes and just as many failures in my yard. Plants have bloomed, plants have died, plants have been eaten! This is the capricious nature of gardening.  The garden is always at the mercy of too little rain, too much rain, natural disasters, bugs, diseases, mold, mildew, and various critters.  You can do everything right and your thriving garden can still be reduced to nubs in one night by a hungry deer.  When you decide to put your mark on nature, you learn to give up a certain amount of control.  Of course, as in life, our sense of control is just an illusion. Through the unpredictable nature of gardening, many life lessons can be learned. Gardening teaches you the beauty that comes from patience, perseverance, and persistence. Although it can bring tough lessons, gardening is also a creative, rewarding, and optimistic hobby.  It isn't easy to look at a patch of hard, cold, dark soil right now and imagine that beauty will "possibly" be the reward in a matter of months.  But, that is the life of a gardener- you have to have faith in what you don't see and have hope for what's to come in the future.

Yesterday I was reminded of one of my most memorable gardening lessons.  When we moved into our current home, I was excited to put my mark on the yard.  Outside my patio door was a planting area that had a few overgrown herbs, but nothing much else to look at.  I decided to plant two uniquely colored shrub roses that would bloom most of the summer- a little bit pink, a little bit peach, with a touch of yellow.  The colors reminded me of a tropical sunset.

The roses were planted and they settled into their new home.  They grew quickly and bloomed prolifically. Besides the annual attack of Japanese Beetles, they were a dream.  For six years they blossomed and grew and I had the good fortune to look out my patio door and enjoy them each day.

Last winter, a particularly harsh wind storm blew through overnight.  When I got up the next morning, I looked outside and immediately saw the gap in my landscape.  One of my beloved roses had been blown completely out of the ground. It was gone without a trace! Thankfully the other rose survived, but since it was part of a pair I worried that I wouldn't find another one to match. Even if I could find the same unusual variety, it would still take years before the new rose would reach the same maturity- this was very disappointing.  Since it was still winter, I had some time to think about what I would do to replace it.  A few weeks later, another storm blew through and literally blew the other rose right out of the ground! To have it happen once was unusual, to have it happen twice was unprecedented.  Even though it was "only plants", I was still sad thinking I wouldn't be able to look out my window each day and see my pretty roses.

Sometimes in the garden, you lose one thing to gain something potentially better (that's why gardeners are optimists) so I started thinking about what would be even prettier than the roses.  Spring turned into summer and still I couldn't quite find what I was looking for so the spot stayed empty.  And then one day, something caught my eye when I looked out the patio door. It appeared to be a weed but when I went outside for a closer look I realized it was actually a sprout of the original rose bush! Somehow, despite the trauma of being ripped out of the ground, enough root remained to allow it to grow again.  Deep from within, this tiny sprout appeared and in time this miniature little rose even started to bloom. Shortly thereafter, the other rose did the same thing. Both of my roses that appeared to be gone for good were now making a comeback!

It would be easy to write that off as a gardening victory and move on.  But, since gardening is full of life lessons I pondered the greater meaning.  Is the lesson that "change is inevitable"?  Or that "life will surprise you"? Or that "patience has its rewards"? I sensed a different message.  In this case, I could personally relate to the rose.  

I have been that rose, and I'm guessing you have too.  I have been happy and comfortable in my life when I have been completely uprooted by a sudden storm.   Whether that storm was the loss of a job, or an unexpected move, or a life-changing test result, or the loss of a loved one- the result was the same.  The storm blew me out of my comfort zones.  I was knocked off my feet, the breath knocked out of me.  The world seemed dark and barren, incomplete, and unfamiliar. It was easy to feel like routine and life itself would never be the same.  I felt so damaged and depleted that I couldn't imagine a life of fullness ever returning. Does that sound familiar? Have you been through a storm?

Then one day, a tiny sprout appeared! Out of a dry, cracked earth came a tender stalk.  It was fragile but growing.  A small sign of new life from a root that we may never have known was there.  A strength that came from a place so deep that we were left surprised.  Even when all appeared to be lost, there was still life, hope, love, strength, and beauty inside.  It was a lesson that repeated itself- a growing and persistent whisper-- hold on, have faith, don't lose hope.

Gardening can teach you a lot about loss and abundance.  Doubt and hope. Death and resurrection.  Every year we watch a cold, dark ground come to life.  Every year we secretly doubt that it is going to happen until we are surprised on a daily basis by life bursting forth bud by bud, leaf by leaf, flower by flower until finally spring cannot be denied!  For me, the life lessons of gardening come back to hope and faith.  When all appears to be gone in life, as in the garden, I have great hope that there is more. And I have great faith that God will restore me just as He does my garden each year.