She blooms.
Spring is here and I’m so excited that I wet my plants.
(you definitely chuckled didn’t you)
It’s been a bit since I started a post with a pun, so while we’re on the topic of plants, I’ll tell you that my puns “stem” from a deep desire to bring color to an otherwise dreary day.
The world could use a little more color and humor, don’t you think?
And that’s something I really love about this time of year, the color. After a long, cold, dark winter, all life comes out of hibernation and I watch in fascination as plants bloom, stretching their stems to the sun, saturating their surroundings with color and life.
Birds resume their spring song, the rain that falls leaves behind the smell of hydrated earth, and all around me there lives life.
No wonder they call it the season of rebirth.
It kind of feels like something I’m going through right now, being reborn.
I had my first appointment the other day, and though it was but one hour, I feel I have taken this giant step over a murky puddle of doubt and I’m on my way to healing, understanding, and loving myself once again.
It’s funny, all these years, I’ve never paid much mind to spring. Sure, I notice spring “breakup”, but then I kind of skip ahead and by the time I stop to smell the roses (so to speak), it’s summer.
But this year is different. Every day, I’ve astutely observed plants around me root, ride, and bloom. I’ve appreciated the process of something coming back to life after being dormant for so long. And maybe I’m particularly aware of this seasonal shift because I feel it mirroring what’s happening within me, this momentous change.
It is possible to be full of life after a dark time, it is completely within my power to shine as brilliantly as the earth around me, and I have faith that I too will bloom again, I see proof of this miracle every day.
It will take time, patience, tenderness, and many more breakdowns before I can stand as strong as the flowers (and yes, that includes those darn dandelions), but at least I’ve begun, and I have hope outside of my window to remind me.
As Rupi Kaur says best:
to heal
you have to
get to the root
of the wound
and kiss it all the way up
