Reawakening

I’ve had a blah year so far. Just recently I was lamenting to a friend that January was mostly a blur, having been down with the flu and a respiratory infection for three weeks and then having arm surgery. My friend looked at me quizzically and said, “Dude, it’s March. Actually, it’s almost April. Did you miss February too?” Apparently the whole first quarter is fuzzy. Now here it is April, and I still feel funky. And I’m not talking the Gap Band ilk of funky.

I’m healthy. We are finally settled into our lovely renovated home. The boys fill me with amazement and pride every single day. Mac Daddy gets better with age. Life is good. So why the funk?

I can’t explain it. I’m feeling like a shadow of myself. I’m saddled with aches and gripes since my arm is healing at the speed of a tortuga on valium. I can’t work effectively, and cooking is a chore. Writing and cooking are what breathe life into me so carrying on without these activities seemingly rob me of my very being. I “write” using dictation and edit one-handed for the most part. Bird does my chopping for me, and Mac Daddy steps in to stir because watching me try to stir left handed makes him cringe. I’m working on building strength and endurance in my arm. I have a long way to go. 

I’m wallowing in my own lousy pity party.

It’s time to shake out of this grim skin I’m in.

Mother Nature shall shepherd me into a reawakening. 

Every spring I am reminded of the majesty of nature. I gobble up fresh air as I see everything in bloom around me. It’s not as if I don’t know it’s coming, yet it takes me by surprise and takes my breath away every year. And it’s not because of allergies. I don’t know the name of all these plants but I do see so many shades of purple, pink, magenta, and every hue of green coming alive in North Carolina this time of year. Something new blooms everyday; it’s Nature’s Christmas as we see what’s left unwrapped for us. I admit that it’s difficult to mourn and feel sorrow when I see so much color in the world. It is a reminder of the life they carries on, even though winter was a blur. As winter’s frosty grip drags us into melancholy, spring’s light touch revives us. Such is the cycle of life, in nature and in us. Spring marks a reawakening.