A Reflective Walk

 

In the spirit of yesterday's recentering, I decided that today I would do something I haven't done in a very long time, which was to walk one of my favorite trails.

It was probably the best decision I've made all winter.  The air was so refreshing and the dark gray clouds of a cold front rolling in set an almost magical quality to the skyline.  My soul must have desperately needed the openness--the feel of chilled wind on my face--because I felt like I was drinking in freshness.

 

This feeling of freshness is a bit ironic considering the last time I was on this trail.  The truth is that I haven't walked here in almost exactly a year.  I remember the last time like it was yesterday.  I had just finished up an appointment with my doctor where she explained ever so plainly [I'm paraphrasing now] that my husband and I had better chances of winning the lottery than conceiving a child.  

It was news, you can imagine, that has profoundly impacted the last year of my life.  And it was news that was anything but fresh.

 

I mention this for a number of reasons.  One is that a lady is equal parts elusive and vulnerable.  And today I'm practicing the latter.  And two is that it is an important part of my story.

And that story is one of a long season of dormancy.  Like the grasses and trees from these photos taken on my walk, I have spent the past 2+ years resembling a barren prairie.  Oh yes...I know that this lovely blog has begun to show the pale pink of bloom, but it has taken many, many months to get here.

 

And really what you see now are just the early buds--a hopeful promise of what is to come.  Many of my dreams for this little online space are yet to blossom--still waiting for their figurative spring.

 

And also waiting for figurative spring is my family--my chance to be a mother as well as a wife and writer and creator of pretty things.  This endeavor I'm afraid I have less control over, but it is a piece of my heart nevertheless.  And it encourages me that one year later, on this very trail, I was able to feel freshness and openness instead of the crushing weight of sorrow that I felt when last I tread here.

So, I suppose my first 24 hours of "freshening up" for a new season have been fresh indeed.  So fresh, in fact, that I've made a decision to return to this trail as often as I can during the next several weeks.  Because I want to witness day-by-day what it is like to come out of dormancy.

And maybe I'll see it happen for me, too.