The view from my window is one that I historically might have called 'miserable'. All is gray and damp. Drops of rain accumulate on bare branches like winter jewels while chilly air creeps in through a poorly sealed back door. March is upon us...bulbs are breaking soil...yet, here I sit, wrapped in a scarf...our fireplace flickering with precious heat. This...is Vancouver. I admit, I was more than reluctant to leave the warmth of my bed this morning. How lovely it would've been to remain there, curled up in my cozy duvee, lost in the pages of my book. I allowed myself 20 minutes of leisure before the day's 'To-Do' list got the better of my senses and forced me out of bed. And now I find myself here, inspired to write about my shifting perspectives...
The rain was once a symbol of my fragile emotional landscape. The dreariness that lurked within every dark cloud seemed to reflect my deeply tumultuous spirit and rainy days would find me gazing out the window, lamenting over every perceived misfortune. My heart was heavy and my head was full of reasons why. Like well-placed dominoes, one sad thought would set off a downward spiral and I would be left wallowing in a crumpled mess of self-pity. The rain really had nothing to do with it, but it gave my mind a reason to ruminate.
Today, however, is different. Instead of losing myself in a self-spun quandary, I'm looking beyond the fog and seeing evidence of Spring all around me. Delicate, bright green buds are beginning to uncurl, pushing their way through layers of fallen leaves and amongst the shriveled remains of last season's clematis, graceful new vines are growing.
Our little patch of earth spends most of the year without the kiss of sunshine. In midsummer, it boasts lively plants and the occasional flower, but the winter finds it forever wet, even on sunny days. Yet, somehow, despite the marked lack of light, new life always pushes its way through. The plants simply grow, absorbing whatever light they get and thriving despite the ominous gray, happy for the endless rain that falls.
I'd like to think that is a better reflection of me these days...that my disposition is more akin to the effortless growth of a seedling than the stormy uncertainty of a raincloud.