By A Little Or A Lot

It feels good to ground myself again. To dig in and settle. To plant something. To see these bulbs all closed up and wintery with their tissue-thin wrappings drawn up around their shoulders, their pale green noses just peeking out. To know, with gulps of water and baths of sunlight, pure white blooms will soon be flouncing atop tall green stalks, a sweet confirmation that spring is coming next. 

A spring that will be strangely, yet wonderfully liberated from the sports and school influence that we’ve known for so long. A spring with new rhythm, opportunities, and life. How might I tend this delightful gift of time? Thoughts came and landed on a page. So many things, years deferred, were now waking up for their chance to be. New ways of seeing and doing and being. Why not be liberal with this liberation, I wondered. Why not take this full-body, full-mind, full-spirit stretch and reach, reach, reach? 

There were many words, written in lines one atop the other, row by row. Thoughts, ideas, intentions. In the coming weeks and months, I’ll gather and shape them, observe them, rearrange them. Listen to them, learn from them. I’ll do them. One by one, by a little or a lot. 

Some were as simple as reassigning the idea of indoor spring cleaning to indoor winter cleaning, so that by spring, I can immerse myself in the awakening outdoors. Be with the gardens, the land, the creek. See the grass turn, the leaves unfold, and the birds come home. Other things were deeper and more complex. Layered. Yet alive with energy and delight. 

I tuck a fingertip in amongst the pebbles, feeling for water. The bulbs have drained it dry. I reach for a clay pitcher, fill it with fresh, cool water, and splash them another gulp.

P.S. Thank you, loves, for all your thoughts and prayers for health and healing! I’m happy to say that I’m feeling whole and well and enjoying this sparkly new year.