Spring

Someone dear to me just tried to reframe March. He said, “march is the breaking of winter.” If we think of it as winter it is too discouraging. If we think of it as spring it raises our expectations beyond what the month will likely be able to deliver. If we think of it as it’s own thing we know it is short lived and a transition. Maybe it is transition that I don’t like, or the thought of more cold days ahead before we can shed the weight of winter clothes. Maybe it is the taste and tease of something new just out of my reach that leaves me sad and discouraged. Or maybe it is knowing that no matter how bad I want it the weather will not break until it breaks, and I will have to sit still and wait. 

Whatever “it” is leaves me slogging through and tired. Many moments in each day feel prickly and to be avoided. Tasks that call me to them seem overwhelming. A good night sleep is not enough. Each interaction I have needs to be well thought out or it will be regretted. My temper is short and my patients shorter. Doing what needs to be done builds on the slogging feelings. I know that I need to give myself space and slow down. Giving me room to let my slow working mind catchup with my fast moving life. But I become easily frustrated with moving so slow. 

I noticed the pattern of my relationship with March last year when I was uncharacteristically tearful. This year I was determined to fight the battle and not let it overcome me. This year I will remember that March needs to be slow. I will not wish for the things I can not control. I will revel in the moments I have right now. And here it is again. The beast we call March. It is breaking me. 

And then I try to take perspective. I remember the families in my community that have recently lost their mother. Or parents struggling to support their children’s vastly different needs. I hope this remembrance will lighten me and make me “count my blessings”, but instead it makes me heavier with the knowing. 

So I will sit here knowing that it passes. I will talk and write about it hoping my understanding will change. I will let others know where I am, hoping for grace, and space to be less than my usual self. I will cross off each day on the calendar learning what I can from today and breaking through this fog into the sunshine that sits so close in tomorrow.