This week my mind felt scattered, then captured, then round and round in a cycle between the two. Perhaps getting back to a busy work schedule, the bi-yearly time change, my body still doing overtime to heal, and all the demands placed on humans these days, added up to half-formed ideas, only incidentals instead of a cohesive post. But as it is Thursday, and it is my custom to sit and capture my Nine Cents I am inclined to try.

Today the mist creeping across the snowy field caught my eye as I walked up past the old apple orchard. Winter is slowly melting away, inch by inch, as the air comes from the south and helps the sunshine bring us out of dormancy.

Still a black & white vista but promise is coming with the return of open water and patches of green. And the robins made their first appearance today too. Big news.

There is much chatter about positivity these days, keeping it front and center, but there is need for grieving too. Allowing for loss seems like a worthy task, even as winter is slowly vanishing, there may be cause to winter within ourselves. Perhaps that will allow for the brilliance of Spring and her flowery mantel to bud into our newly discovered joy? I am ready to step into that light, but I am also not afraid of the shadows when they flicker and steal my attention for a moment or two still.

I have thought about expectations a lot this week too. I am certain that everyone has had the conversations about, say, when are you going to get a real job? When are you going to settle down? Have a baby? Have another? Get a promotion? Or the one that I hear when I go to buy stamps or pass an old friend in the grocery store, when are you going to retire? Such a tracked world we all live in, with most everyone following these age old patterns. I seemed to be forever doing life as I wished. The last to go to college in my family and yet the only one with an advanced degree. The first to have babies and the last one still working full time. Those predictable questions are just small talk fillers because those who truly know you know enough not to ask. This week I hope I have listened more than asked questions that make someone shutter because they just miscarried or have a new financial burden or they just want to continue to feel their way through their own life. We don’t know our own tomorrow’s let alone someone else’s. Might be time to stop with the questions that make someone feel less than.

I have also loved the slanting afternoon light this week. Catching it dance across the dirt road before it collapses behind the ridge always feels like I won something. The snow is too deep to get into the woods but my eye is drawn in by the light moving between the slender trees and I know it is only a few short weeks before I will have full access to all of that space again. Bird song soothes my internal chatter along these forays up and then down. For now, I have stopped with the podcasts and news alerts, saving the crisis watch for those with the bandwidth.

You see I gave up worry for Lent. I mean, it should have been chocolate, but as there is far more toxins in worry I threw that out on the altar. Less chocolate, sure, and more oranges and asparagus, all will help with some physical spring cleaning. But it’s worry that has us in its grip and keeps us from any real rest. So, as I peel my morning orange, I imagine all the goodness that has swept through my days and I float on that citrusy scent letting go of any of my speculative or invented troubles. It will take practice to change since after three years of covid fears, worry is a well worn path. But 40 days is just about enough to start me on that discovery.

Feeling like I can return to painting soon too. My last finished work of 2022 is reflective of some brightness even with the dark. Perhaps some exotic birds dancing in the midday light? Who knows how you see my strokes up and down the canvas, the movement and space colliding. But do for sure let me know.