There’s a moment in spring
where everything seems to pause, just briefly.
It’s as if the season takes one big inhale
and then spring thunders in
with its special shades of green
and bright colors dotting the dull brown landscape.
We two-leggeds feel this in our bones
breathing with spring
brimming with anticipation.
Ready to emerge from winter’s grip
we shed layers, and not just of clothes.
We shed layers of what we’ve been holding
through the long nights and crisp cold air.
Like the buds that are days, perhaps hours, from opening
we, too, feel the pulsing energy of the season.
It’s a time to get reacquainted with hope.
Real hope.
The kind you sink your teeth into,
without hesitation or second thoughts.
I’m not talking about calculated hope
carefully allotted in a vain attempt
not to be disappointed or hurt.
If your hopes are up, let them be up.
No need to tamp them down.
You’ll be alright
even when things don’t follow your wishes.
Let yourself hope so that you can feel joy.
Joy weathers ups and downs.
It can hold grief and raucous laughter
without missing a beat.
So in this pause, I send spring greetings
from the northland.
May you feel the pull toward Wild abandon.
May you sense your belonging
in the emergence of spring.
And may you find the courage to hope —
infused with the improbable and dazzling gift of being alive —
to go all in, whole heart, open to wonder and possibility.
