“It’s cold, mommy!” My daughter uttered these words after I pulled her bundled body from the car seat. “It is cold, baby!” I ensured that only her eyes were exposed, held her close and dashed into the house. In the last six weeks, this scenario has played out day after day. I’m used to it now, having experienced the snowiest winter on record in Metro Detroit in 36 years, as well as the coldest I ever remember. Like many Michiganders, I’m so over it. I’m tired of aching knees, icy streets, mounds of snow and bitter temps.
This weather hasn’t made it easy to move forward with some things I committed to in the last few months. For instance, this winter my inner voice has often said, “Let’s go to the gym.” My combative inner child has responded by thrashing around on the floor and yelling “Noooo, it’s too cold!” or “I want cake!” Let’s just say that I’m looking for a muzzle to fit my inner child. Then there are household tasks--like having both a clean office and a clean bedroom at the same time (#fail). And of course, there are these writing goals. I’ve done a decent job of working on my new novel, but when it comes to consistency in blogging and social media, I kind of suck. I think it’s because so many ideas are floating around in my brain that I entertain many and commit to few. Consequently, I feel like I’m in a dormant season.
My own revelation of dormancy reminds me of the cycle of seasons. In winter, nature goes into a waiting state. Vegetation that was plush and colorful a few months ago is now barren and frozen in time. I realize that my absence from this blog and sporadic resurfacing on social media have probably given the appearance that I, too, am suspended from life, but I ask you to note my use of the term “appearance.”
You see, when something provides an appearance, the visual may not reflect the reality. Yesterday I watched snow flurries dance outside the window and saw a tree in our yard that had the appearance of death. Since we’ve been in our home, beautiful red berries, resembling tiny maraschino cherries, blossom on that tree. Today that tree looks absent of life, but I know there’s something going on in the inside that proves it’s alive. An energy moves through that tree’s roots, trunk, branches and bark that will manifest in spring. It is preparing for a season of harvest.
This understanding encourages me this winter. Though I might appear to be dormant, please know that something is alive on the inside. Yes, this has been a time of rest, but I am preparing for a harvest of my own. Spring is right around the corner.
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Shellie
