The Other March Madness

Springtime makes me choose music. For the first time in weeks, I am voluntarily turning on music and grooving to rhythms; singing lyrics to the stories and poems I haven't been able to connect with. Winter does that to me: it causes me to disconnect...

I can literally feel the layers of all of the dreary, mucked-up, filth in my heart peeling away. The brief hours of sunshine and fresh air on my face from yesterday's trip to the park continue to work their magic, 12 hours later. I mean, I sat in the grass you guys. 

I. Sat. In. The. Grass.

I felt the grass and the Earth beneath my hands and body. I connected to the Earth and it reminded me that this phase of muck and cold and barrenness is over. The daffodils beside me on that grassy knoll were solid evidence that Spring isn't just "coming." Spring is HERE.

My seeds have sprouted and my little baby vegetables and flowers almost need to be transplanted to their bigger pots so that they have space to spread their roots and so that I have space to start some more seeds. What's next? Maybe the tomatoes? Spinach? Growing things has always appealed to me, but it has only been in the past few years that I have found my path back to actually working in the earth. I lost my way somewhere in the toddler/elementary school years of raising a family... Being involved in this growing process of our future lunches and dinners has truly given me a center to focus on when the real madness of March attempts to take charge.