seasons – The Other Shoe

Some anniversaries aren’t meant to celebrate but to remember and learn from — while you make plans to move on. This is one of them.

Two months ago we marked one entire year since our world stood still. Unfortunately, a global pandemic doesn’t call for anniversary champagne toasts. One year in, and we still have few reasons to celebrate this milestone although, from the looks of it, spring didn’t get the memo. It still sprung, right on schedule. The season, however, is a whole lot more than April showers and May flowers. At its core, spring symbolizes an escape from despair and dark times, and that pretty much defines this past year, no? Despite the heavy, colorless winter past, confused crocuses, and daffodils still stubbornly refuse to give up. Uh, little dudes, did you see the weather?

“Despite the forecast, live like it’s spring”. Lily Pulitzer

Living like it’s spring can be a tough directive, especially in times of loss and quarantine. This past year qualifies as the poster child for lost jobs, livelihoods, and people we loved. Sneeze-inciting ragweed may be in bloom but the pandemic elephant still reminds us daily that the deadly virus continues to infect and kill. Confusion reigns about what we can or can’t do once fully vaccinated and social distance is still the norm. Even so, spring proves we have the strength and heart to bloom again, even if we have to push through frozen ground to get there. And one thing is for sure. Life, like every season, inevitably goes on even if it might not be the same on the return trip. Neither will we.

Nothing is more intrinsic to nature and humanity than change. From hurricanes and earthquakes to fires and epidemics, nature can transform our world in a nanosecond. We can try to control it but, like a pandemic, it tells us who’s boss. The virus will eventually lessen its stranglehold. Life will slowly return, but not to ‘normal’ — and that may not be a bad thing. We are so due for a major reset. The wealthiest 5% remain at the head of the line, while the rest struggle exponentially from job loss, and financial difficulties. Some will still have no healthcare, live from paycheck to paycheck, often in abject poverty. In a country divided by affluence and the lack of it, political party, race and gender, this pandemic has been definitive proof that illness does not discriminate. The more things change, the more they remain the same.

“You can cut all the flowers, but you cannot keep spring from coming”. Pablo Naruda

As life begins its baby-step return, we see defaults as clearly as we see change. Time is inhabited by both good and painful memories, love and loss, joy and tears. Happy times are no less happy when they are joined by sad. Like the lion and lamb of life’s seasons, they inhabit the same space. And, while they are polar opposites, they are part of the same equation. That’s life’s eternal dichotomy. No one complains when the pendulum swings the fun way, but when our little world teeters on its axis and hands us things that suck, whoa! Yet, life is exactly that; a conundrum of all things good and bad. It’s up to us to find the aha moments.

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For some, March is a springboard to a blooming new season. For others it’s a slippery slide into grief or depression.

March was always the stuff of angry lions — and I’m not talking about the weather. The month’s windy grayness matched somber memories of my brother, whose birthday and death day at 19 forever book-ended it with shrouded memories. That is, until the year a kooky March wind blew in the guy who would become my husband. That year, March saw a first date in the restaurant that became ‘ours’ for every important celebration. One year later, that month saw a courthouse wedding, totally off script, but when the cancer dragon rudely inserts itself and you need new health insurance, you ad lib. But, since we were crazy romantics, a few weeks later, we also squeezed in both church wedding and casually cool reception, complete with rubber ducks swimming in a margarita fountain. Go figure.

With happier new markers in place, I was able to feng shui the month with brighter bookends. Yes, far too soon Death did come again to end this happily ever after but at least it picked a different month. This is not about how the story ended, however. It’s about things can be revised, with new defaults. If we allow ourselves, we can often see clearly how much a month can really hold, how everything can change according to how we view it and how we embrace it. Time can be inhabited with both good — and painful memories; love and loss, joy and tears. Happy times are no less happy when they are joined by the sad. As both lion and lamb, they can inhabit the same space and, while they are polar opposites, they are part of the same equation.

March is a month of expectation. Emily Dickinson

The flip side of joy is pain. That’s life’s eternal dichotomy. No one complains when the pendulum swings the fun way, when life seems perfect and all in our little world is balanced on its axis, spinning merrily along. But when it hands us things that really suck, things we are helpless to change, whoa! Yet, that IS life; the conundrum of all things good and bad. Like a seasonal temperature inversion, a peaceful, balmy day can morph into a hair wrecking windy storm in a nanosecond. And just as quickly the sea calms, the weighty fog lifts and, if we pay attention, we just might see the big picture with stunning clarity. We find our aha moments.

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