“The spirit of a man is constructed out of his choices.” ― Irvin D. Yalom, When Nietzsche Wept

The paths of life are varied.

All of us,

each and every one,

have several paths from which to choose a direction.

Our choice is our own.

To have someone dictate which path to take

or

to allow ourselves to be easily swayed by someone or some ideology

would be a crime against our spirit

and

we would not be living our truth.

Media, society, peers, politicians or even our family can attempt to carve a path they’d like us to take

but

if these paths are not divinely intended

if we do not participate in the carving of our own path

or

opt out of the carving of our own path because of fatigue or indifference,

then

we violate our own existence…

diminishing who we are –

a living, breathing gift to the universe.

“The world is mud-luscious and puddle wonderful” e.e. cummings.

Spring is here. Finally. After months and months the sun has come out in full force reminding me, every time I come home from work, how truly dirty my condo windows are.

But I don’t mind.

The warmth and the shine are worth the slight on my housekeeping skills.

It’s muddy and slushy and puddley in them thar streets outside my window. Spring is truly a gloriously messy month. No longer is the land hidden by feet of pure whiteness of the driven snow.

No,

there is a slow revealing that takes place in my neck of the woods. The marshmallow whiteness slowly sinks and turns to beige

then tan

then brown. (Yes there are subtle differences in the colour change).

Any refuse that has been hidden by the snow is now being slowly uncovered to show, for a few weeks anyway, the slovenliness of a society that has been rendered incapable of environmental citizenship

because of an inability to find their mittens.

But a spring cleanup will occur. The garbage bags come out when there begins to be a slight subtle tinge of green in the newly uncovered grass. I can already see it happening. I have spied a prophetic sign…small pussywillows have been spotted…a harbinger of warmer days

and lighter steps

and urges to muck about in the great outdoors.

I’ve noticed the same thing can happen to people. A stagnation of thought or an entrapment of a single stubborn idea can render an individual inert, trapped under a big

heavy

cold blanket.

And then, with the gentle yet persuasive introduction of a new idea, or a “self permission” to shift a paradigm once held fast, a slow melting can occur, uncovering that which is raw,

or basic

or simply brown…until it is allowed to be tended and encouraged to sprout and grow.

I love the potential of spring. I love the hope and promise it holds

even though it sometimes forces me to see the dust and water stains on my windows or cause me to wait in an endless lineup at the car wash.