I realized the other day that I was willing it to be spring.
Much like many of you, we’ve had some unseasonably warm days over the past month.
And, on each of those days, I would find myself wishing emphatically that they would stay.
I’m over snow and mittens and the fifteen minutes it takes me to get three kids bundled up before we can even get outside. I’m ready for flip-flops and after-dinner walks for ice cream while the sun still peeks over the horizon.
I’m over winter.
But then I started to feel bad for winter. (I did, really. It’s weird being me sometimes.)
I mean, people go crazy for fall and get twitterpated about spring, but winter, I think, tends to get a pretty bad rap. (And, often, rightly so. I mean, stop slapping us in the face with your cold wind and maybe we’d like you a little more, you know?)
I love the symbolism of both fall and spring; the letting go of dead things to make room for new growth.
Surely winter has something to teach as well, right?
So I started looking for it. Amidst the bare trees and cold, hard ground, I told myself winter had to be good for something.
And when I shifted my lens, I started to feel the anticipation of everything around me.
Now, it’s worth noting that I already live in a fairly constant state of anticipation. I’m always thinking about things to come, guessing endings, and consuming myself with what-ifs.
It keeps me very calm and loosely wound all the time, and Jake loves this quality about me.
The anticipation of winter feels different though because there are no hypotheticals.
I don’t have to worry whether or not spring will come. Of course it will. New life always gets breathed into the death of winter.
Much like my own personal seasons, really. While I wouldn’t describe my life as particularly dead or barren right now, there is a constant presence of some shortcoming or fault being laid bare (as there should be).
But winter reminds me to live in hopeful anticipation of the growth. It reminds me that new life is promised if I resolve to fix my eyes on the things that matter. The eternal, lasting things.
And, there’s no worry or what-ifs in that.
So, after all this, I’ve decided you can stay for a bit longer, winter. You’re not all bad.
Just cool it a little with the wind, okay?