When a person loses the ability to take pleasure in the mundane - in the cigarette on the stoop or the gingersnap in the bath - she has probably put herself in unnecessary danger. ... One must be prepared to fight for one’s Simple pleasures and to defend them against elegance and erudition and all manner of glamorous enticements. ~Rules Of Civility
I’m just gonna be real for a second. Spring in New England sucks. It's not the deep dark days of Winter that get me down in New England. At least not this year. This year, I found those early Winter days to be magical - the early darkness of days, the forced slowness and calm, the limited sunlight. I knew it doesn't last forever, that the light returns, and that Spring DOES show up. But the six weeks between we set our clocks back and Memorial Day ... that's the real struggle. We are in the hardest six weeks of life for me here. It's the time when we think Spring should be here. We should be able to go outside in something other than snowsuits and boots. We might still need hats, mittens, and coats - but we shouldn't have to be getting all suited up just to go on a walk. The sun might feel warm, but the wind tells a different story. Instead of seeing flowers and new birth, we look outside and see a sea of white. It almost always snows in March ... and the last few years it's snowed the first week of April as well.
Meanwhile back in Georgia, people are packing away the heavy coats (if they ever got them out at all), are spending long days full of sunshine and playing outside, and are maybe even planting Spring gardens. They are cutting fresh flowers for their centerpieces and getting ready for the start of farmer's markets.
But I embarked on a journey to embrace the seasons this year ... and to find the beauty in it all. What I'm learning is that my way of embracing these terrible early Spring days is by hibernating. It's my time to just be still inside my house. I ignore the world around me as much as possible. It's the time of year when I regularly say no when people invite me to hang out. I know that better days are coming, but right now ... I just can't bear to do anything except hibernate in my own hole and pretend the world outside me doesn't exist.
It's my time to practice my bread making. It's my time to use up the contents of my freezers (yes ... there are multiple.) To clean the house from top to bottom. To rearrange furniture. To read books. To pray. To write. It's now, more than any other time of the year, that I just long to be alone. Now is the time that I'm doing all I can to take pleasure in the simple - in the mundane - in the quiet.
I know that soon, the snow will melt. The sun will shine it's warm rays and the wind won't be quite as crisp. I know the flowers will bloom and we'll be out of the house more often than not. Come summer, our days will be full of fun. Full of friends. Full of sunshine and picnics and beaches.
There is a season for everything ... this is my season for being still.