... and a time to every purpose under heaven ...
Mild and sunny weather during what is usually quite a gloomy sort of month in the North East - February.
It is odd.
I sit at my desk at work and look out the window as the sun shines on the sidewalks, and wind blows the spiny leaves of winterized liriope at the edges. I decide to take in the fresh air and walk over for a coffee in the recreation center. As I return I look around at the leafless trees, and twigs that stretch up from the ground representing dormant rose bushes and other shrubs planted last fall.
It seems miraculous to me that even with the mild weather and sunshine all around the plants do not become confused with this strange north eastern non-winter we have been having. I suppose they follow the light more than the temperature. How do they know? I remind myself that in another month fresh, lime-green shoots and colorful blossoms will be springing up everywhere - on the trees, shrubs and bushes.
I mean ... I am confused with the weather this season. I feel as if spring is in the air. My heart feels open to embrace a re-birthing season. I breathe in the fresh air and find myself smiling as I walk about the campus or on my morning work-out walk around my neighborhood. I imagine my eyes are brighter than usual lately and I sense the excitement that comes with warmer weather and spring flowers.
So, I suppose it is not the season that makes me feel this way - after all, surrounding nature waits patiently to burst out into the sunshine.
Mine must be psychologically based. These feelings of exhilaration, and a sense of awakening - as if I have been sleeping for a very long time.
Lately, I have been listening to Olivia Newton John as I drive to and from work. Some good friends gave me one of her CD's: Grace and Gratitude.
Olivia sings, "Breathe it out, breathe it in, trust the light that shines within, let it burn till you learn to love yourself ..."
In therapy I am learning more and more to appreciate who I am, and so Olivia's words speak directly to my heart. In this mildest of winters I have ever seen since coming to the United States twenty four years ago, unlike the dormant trees and shrubs out there, I find that I am impatient to burst out into the sunshine ...
A year ago at Mining Nuggets: Home again ...
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