Coming Out of the Dark . . .

It's Winter. . .

The darkness is beginning to lift slightly.

The days are trying to get a little longer.

The weather is going through a variety of personality changes which have included cold, blustery winds, freezing temperatures, thick, dense fog, sunshine and pounding rains.

 

The foggy mornings have been . . .beautiful.

I leave the house early in the morning, just as the morning light is beginning to creep up -

still a little hesitant.

It's as if the daylight is still trying to shake off it's evening slumber just like I am.

I leash up my trusty companion, Redford, and we trudge out to stretch our legs.

The last several mornings, I have been greeted by flocks of little birds flitting around the trees and singing their song.

I can see buds on the ends of the tree branches bulging with the hope of bursting out in the future.

The ground is beginning to swell in spots as bright green shoots are starting to push skyward.

The whole world looks as if it might explode.
 

And I am filled with hope and anticipation.

And as the fog clears, we are left with bright blue skies and a light that is unequalled during any other time of the year.

 

Once Christmas is past, I find the heaviness of the winter a little too much to bear.
The colorful lights of the Holiday come down and we are left with gray and darkness.
 

But when I see the little hints of what is to come . . .I feel a sense of lightness begin to creep in.

And I remind myself to relax and enjoy the coziness of the remaining winter months -

it won't last forever.

Spring is coming.

New life. New growth. New Light. New color. NEW.

And with these things in mind . . .

the morning fog begins to remind me of a blanket wrapped around the cold trees,

offering warmth until Spring returns and clothes the trees with their bright green foliage.

 

I have felt the same sensation building up in me lately.

The feelings of emerging from a very long winter.

 

When I was young, I had cousins who were living in Alaska.

They came for a visit.

It was early Spring and although the weather was ok in Oregon -

it was still cold.

We were wearing our coats and still dressing in our sweaters.

My Alaska cousins, having been raised in a much colder climate,

showed up and were wearing short sleeves and shorts.

They were outside continually.

They said it felt like summer to them.

Their version of "normal" was much different from mine.

 

For the last several years, I lived as if everything was fine.

Life was "normal".

I had adjusted to the way my life was -

I got up every morning and kept myself in motion.

I played the role of wife and mother, business owner, artist . . .etc., etc., etc.

Whatever was required at the moment.

When my husband lost his job and said he needed to find himself,

I moved through each day and picked up the extra duties as needed.

I adjusted my version of normal.

 

With the changes that have taken place in my world,

it is as if the cloak of winter is beginning to lift.

I am begining to see that I was not living . . .I was surviving.

I was existing . . .but not thriving.

I laughed. Sometimes.

I smiled. Sometimes.

I slept. Sometimes.

I created art and used color and shared words of hope.

But I wrote the words of hope to save myself.

Now I write them because I want to share the joy that I am feeling in myself.

I feel like the buds of the trees that I see on my walks -

bulging with a joy and hope and anticipation that is just waiting to explode.

 

The fog is lifting.

I am seeing what was and what is to come with a brighter light.

 

I have felt like I have been standing on a cliff but was too afraid to jump because I couldn't trust where I would land.

I couldn't see the bottom through the thick fog.

But now that the light is returning and the fog is lifting -

my view is brighter and I can see that there are wonderful things at the bottom of the cliff.

Things that make me laugh and smile.

Things that make me believe that my dreams are truly attainable.

Things that make me excited with anticipation.

I am no longer existing . . .I am living.

I now laugh . . .often.

I now smile . . .often.

I now sleep . . .often.

 

My own personal Spring is emerging and I welcome this change of season.