I've been in a funk on and off for some time, marked mostly by the length and dampness of this particular Oregon winter. It has affected everything, especially my patience, my perspective and my sense of faith.
Last night I came home from an exhausting and extra-challenging day at work, and somewhere in between a cup of tea, the end of a book, and a long, thoughtful discussion about food with Sweetie, I found time to have myself a good cry. That, and Sweetie's many hugs and words of calm encouragement, helped immensely.
This morning, although I was dead tired and arrived rather late for a morning meeting at the shop, I recognized that the weather had warmed up noticeably. I wore knickers and a sweater and rode to work in a light rain that felt warmer. At lunch, I rode over to my favorite teriyaki joint and felt that the raindrops had gotten even warmer. I saw crocuses and daffodils blooming in sidewalk strips, saw tall native grasses wave in the newly-built bioswales along Couch Street, and watched squirrels creep along telephone wires over my head. And the warm rain gently splashed across my face and made me smile a little.
Nothing miraculous or earth-shaking here; I'm still very tired and will probably sleep early and well tonight. But the fact once again hit me over the head that Things Change All The Time. When I feel stuck, I forget that. Riding my bike today helped me to remember it again, and renewed my faith in the return of Spring.
May you find your own path to Spring very soon, wherever you are.