[Public Service Announcement: This might get rambly, but it’s spring. So really? I’m happy if it makes any sense at all.]
I am participating in Susannah Conway’s April Love challenge on Instagram (and also probably a little here, too). Because I need it.
I need April love.
It’s hard for me to see beauty in the spring. Not because it’s not there. It’s everywhere. It is literally blooming all around me. Joy and the promise of peaches (which – let’s face it – are pretty much the same thing as joy) are abundant.
But spring is my dark season. I’ve experienced a lot of loss in springs gone by. It’s a season of mourning for me. But it’s also Easter, which is celebration. And it’s the busiest time of the year at work, so there’s no time for wallowing. There’s this constant battle of melancholy that I have to repress just to function.
[And I know that I’m lucky to still have the ability to push through and function. Some people don’t have that luxury. Some people require medication and loads of professional help and still have it a lot worse than I do. So I’m grateful, too. It’s a confusing, mixed bag.]
Also? I’m pretty sure that every year, Spring tries to kill me.
The following picture perfectly captures my relationship with the natural world during spring:
Notice that it’s a little blurry.This is what the process of taking this picture was like:
Me: Oh, almond blossoms! How pretty you are! Let me get a…
Gust of wind and dust: Nope. *blows suddenly up my nose*
Me: *sneeze* *cough* Just. One. Picture…Please!
Wind: *BLOW* Behold my mightiness. Oh, hey there, pollen! Long time no see!
Pollen: Hello, my old friend. I hear you have a job for me!
Wind: All in her face. Up her nose and in her eyes, if possible. Really get in there.
Pollen: I’m on it! *flies in my face*
Me: Come on, wind. Could you stop blowing dust and pollen on me for one minute. I just want to take one… *leans closer to almond tree*
Wind, Pollen, Dust, possibly the Apocalypse: She’s getting too close!! She might start enjoying it!! Make it hit her in the face, team! *swarm* *attack*
Me: DAMMIT! WHY ARE THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS TRYING TO KILL ME?! WHY?!?!!
I know – complaining about the weather is not super productive. It’s the adult version of a temper tantrum. It’s not like the wind, pollen, and dirt are going to hear me and say, “Oh, that’s an excellent point you make. Our bad. We’ll go away now.” Complaining changes nothing, other than possibly making me a less pleasant person to be around.
[And for those of you spring lovers who are feeling high and mighty right now, feel free to replace “wind, pollen, and dirt” with “snow” or “ice” or “cold” or “cloudy skies” or “rain” or “heat” or “swarms of bugs” or whatever one could possibly find to hate about fall. You may have good reasons for feeling how you do (as do I), but you are not innocent in this. Don’t even try to pretend that you are.]
In recent years, I’ve become a proponent of temper tantrums. If I could whisper that, I would. It seems scandalous to say. I was never allowed to throw them as a child. My mother would not approve.
And I get that. Temper tantrums are embarrassing. They are socially awkward. They’re demanding. They halt everything within earshot. They pretty much put conversations and lives on hold until they’re over. They’re selfish – an attribute so maligned that we go to great lengths to deny the reality that we just…are. And temper tantrums tend to reveal – not conceal – that reality.
They’re also honest, and that’s healthy. I mean, if tantrum is your constant state of expression, maybe see a professional who can help you talk it out or assess whether your chemicals have gone awry, because that level of frequency might be indicative of super high stress levels which, over time, are not healthy. But to be alive and awake and active in this world is to be periodically pissed off by something or someone in it. Whether you are two or seventy-two, I wish you the grace to say so. I wish you the grace to rage.
You know what else I’m a proponent of? Getting up off the damn floor when you can. And right now, I can. So I’m going to look for ways to love April, even though it’s hard, and I’m going to see how others are loving April, too.
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