There are starts and stops at every transition. Like when Winter is slowly colliding into a Spring that turns frozen again. We, in the quiet Northeast, are used to such chaos from our skies. One day we run about in tees and another it’s back into the parka. There is a steady plodding onwards, and general acceptance of what must be will be. Perhaps that is why Vermonters are all cool with so many personal differences through the decades. And perhaps this is why so many of us are sitting tight while COVID19 runs its course. We know how to stay active through long months of difficult weather conditions right inside our own space, plus we got an upward vision that allows us to dream of what is almost here.
After a few tough years questioning heaven with a WHY ME, I am turning my awareness back to the earth to cultivate gratitude for the bounty I live within. Fresh air and water, abundance of love, with opportunity to grow and learn in multiple directions. Gifts. Sometimes it takes a bit of slowing down to notice what is right in front of our cloudy vision, but as we do the veil lifts just enough so the world appears wondrous. This is a lesson many garner with grace and ease, but I’ve come kicking toward these fine appreciations. I’m an immediate type of gal, as in I want what I want immediately. Like Spring. Or unions of sorts. Now. This day. And in that racy bustle I often ignore what has presented itself. Those presents appearing daily. Like sunlight making itself faintly felt despite the cloud cover. While I swim children’s laughter breaking through the routine. A fat crow on a bare branch facing the stiff wind outside my window. A friend letting me know a fabulous new plan, and yes, she wants me in on it. A upcoming luncheon date with an elderly Aunt who will sound, perhaps just for a few seconds, like my mother. Jasmine. Period. Everything about this sublime fragrance graciously filling your every breath is a magical gift. People who I hardly know who rise early and say, text me when you wake up and we can hike. Food. Fresh and local and organically grown in small farms. Glorious combinations of flavors exploding into savory delight. All of it. The glass is always more than half full. It’s overflowing. What will it take for you to see?