spring, spring, goddamn spring

Spring has sprung! Oh god, punch me. Like we need more cliches or analogies to the more obvious oddities that come around every few quarter months. I’d love to smell the new budded roses but my nasal cavities are swollen from the pollen saturated air. These days of gloom and nights of boom-in-the-sky are making me feel achy and I wake up as if recovering from a bipolar episode pondering my emotional state.

Ok, but for real, I’m a big fan of spring. It’s my third favorite season.

I like that the streets I drive down are now covered with bright green leaves overhead. They’re almost neon lime green, my favorite color. Just a week and a half ago I was looking out my window at the bare tree branches slightly swaying in the wind. Mind you, they were only swaying because this past week has been super windy, branches aren’t usually great swayers. And today, those branches are full of half-grown neon green beauties. I’ve got my window open so I can feel the wet air and hear the birds chirping. The paper drawings I have hung up on the walls are slightly wilting, worth it though. I’m a big window gal. I hate air conditioning, especially in my car. Most of the time no matter where I end up, my hair is a tousled mess from all my windows being open, and that’s how I like it…it’s also why I wear hats all the time. So, spring brings me several little joys.

I was pondering as I was driving through this particularly early grey and gloomy morning, thinking man, I would prefer that the sun was out thinking my drive would be more pleasant and enjoyable. I found it difficult to fully wake up, and my eyes remained in a half open, half closed, crescent shape. But then later, something happened. The damn sun came out, and it got hot. Like whoa humid hot compared to the chilly morning where I had my heat on in my car. This is when I noticed the trees. The past few days have been all rain. All gloom. All wet. Now, I could watch a thunderstorm for hours completely content, but when grey wetness continues for days, I find myself wishing for the sun and dry pavement. But this is the part of spring that is so important.

Spring needs those dark gloomy rain ridden days. That’s what makes spring, spring. Because without the rain we wouldn’t get those pretty yellow dots that cover our yard after one rainfall, even though they make my allergies go bazerk. Without the rain, our streets wouldn’t be singing. Without the rain, we might forget what plush feels like under our feet.

My point is, we need those dark days. I’m talking in one of those cliche metaphor voices now—in case you didn’t realize that I switched it up there… 

What makes things beautiful, what makes us beautiful, are the dark days. There the days of doubt, of sadness, of boredom, of hurt, of whatever not pleasant feeling that we feel sometimes. Becuase those days give us the nourishment that we need. I realize this is borderline contradictory, stay with me here though. Those days give us the urge, the power, the desires that we need to get to the place of neon lime green.

Spring has sprung, and so can we. Ha ha now THAT was a good one. People will tell you, give it time, it might take awhile. But also, if nobody has told you yet, one rainfall can bud some pretty badass flowers.

We’re all jealous of the flying dragon

Do you know the level in Spyro where you have to fly through hoops and when you do a sound that you would image magic sounds like echoes through your speakers? Yeah, I want that. I want to have a path outlined for me reassuring me along the way that I’m doing the right thing. I actually fantasize about this image often. I can hear that magic ring as I get closer to the finish, and the best part is if I mess up I can try it again. And again. And again until I get what I want. Oh, wouldn’t that be nice?

But unfortunately, life isn’t as magical as the world of Spyro. The dragon in me is a little less cute, and a lot more realistic.

I think part of me has been waiting for the resemblance of a lit up path to appear to me guiding me to a destination, but no such path has materialized. So, understanding that this is not the way to go I look for other things. Possibilities. And there’s a lot of those which is good because I like options. Realizing that there’s no one right way is part of the battle, another part is following through with the moving part of it. You have to move your feet, move your mind, move into a mindset that will get you somewhere you want to be. I’m only now realizing that your destination doesn’t have to be an end all situation. Hell, you don’t even have to know your destination. It’s the journey that’s important. It’s the journey that takes up your time, it’s where you put in the effort, it’s where things matter.

You are actively creating your journey as you go whether you know it or not. You move from the punches being thrown at you, you leap to new places, you find new people, and the whole time your path is changing. Every encounter, every dream is taking you to a place that you don’t know yet. And that’s the real beauty of not having a path.