Spring

While everyone else might be spending the first few days of April cleaning out their closets, I spend my days working on me. Cleansing my mind if you will. I’ve spent many nights emptying my heart in hopes of more fulfillment and peace. I have spent some days and nights sending text messages and emails rekindling old relationships and refreshing new ones. Many nights, I spent crying in the arms of my husband, not out of sadness but out of pure relief. I sometimes forget that it is our right as creatures to have that sort of emotion without question.

Spring, within a few short days has given me so much insight and awakening. Today, as River and I made our way from our neighborhood lunch I was reminded of how awake spring can make a girl feel. As we started our curve around the corner, just enough where you could see our building in the distance, River asked if we could walk around the block just a bit more. I knew that “walk around the block” meant walk slowly until she dosed off for a stroller nap, so I did. As I took my time to make my way up and over every sidewalk crack, and to slowly sip my smoothie at a records pace- I breathed. I listened and fully felt each breath that I took. Thoughts of the winter vortex, and my despise of the city that I love in what seemed like an endless winter were diminished. I was fully there. I felt as if my earlier attempts at cleaning my heart in hopes of fulfillment and peace where in fact successful. Not many thoughts entered my brain this afternoon, I was just there, fully and utterly aware.

A few hours later, after I walked all I could, and sat with a coffee quietly at the park, River awoke from her nap. She woke up to a familiar scene of a field of green grass and mud from the morning’s rain, but immediately noticed the flowers that were budding along side the bench I was sitting at. I unbuckled her and she ran over and pointed out the color of each flower: “That’s yellow mama! Purple! That has green leaves!” And as she made her way to the last flower in the row she said to me, “And this one is awake!” Awake. She went on to show me how the previous flowers in the row weren’t awake (just budding) and how the very last one was out (blooming), it was awake. As simple as it may seem, in that moment my three year old signified what I felt as she slept away. Just like that flower, I felt awake.

Hello spring.