The bare reddish branches of our Japanese maple tree crackled and dripped with ice while the snow changed to sleet and freezing rain. A pretty sight, it was also disheartening, coming as it does at the point where we have already, in mind, heart, and calendar days, moved into spring. Not wholly unexpected or undeserved, our mild winters tend to make up for their lack of early zeal with an extended and drawn-out few weeks of wintry nonsense.
There is no rushing what nature is going to do. Keeping this in mind, and accepting it sooner rather than later, is a key component of one’s daily peace, and a helpful lesson for life in general; there will aways be things and events and people who are beyond our control or influence. These things don’t know or care whether you may be affected or bothered by their actions, and they never will be. Giving oneself over to this bit of powerlessness is part of growing up. It’s also a part of being at peace as a grown-up.
Some music then, for rumination and contemplation. Sit with me for a moment while it plays. It’s called ‘Spring Snow’ because being literal is usually the easiest course to take.
Even the sturdiest branches, as bare and light of leaf as they are right now, bend and droop beneath the weight of the ice. Looking as forlorn as some slow-moving funeral procession, the branches of dogwoods and grasses gently sway in their mournful stance, waiting for the hug of spring to offer comfort – though none is to be had on this frigid day. The temperature is moving in the wrong direction, and so they shudder, still unable to shirk off the ice on their backs.
Whenever I want to rush ahead, especially in the first days of spring, the universe has ways of forcing a pause, and rather than finding frustration or antibusiness here, I find a welcome pocket of time in which to slow down, to let the day crawl for a bit. Rushing through life is no way to live; you simply miss too much.
