Spring appears to be arriving early after a winter that wasn't in Minnesota. Time and seasons have started to blur in an unfamiliar way. I, like others, welcome the warmer temps, the greenery peeking out of the dead leaves, and the sun now strong enough to counteract the wind on my face. Yet I also mourn the loss of the usual signs of winter in my life--not just the skiing and outdoor activities, but the snowy animal prints in my yard, the hoary frost on the trees, and even the bits of winter that make their way inside on boots and hats and gloves. The thought of not having it in my life is both alarming and heartbreaking.
Winter is a time of relative quiet and contemplation- taking stock of all that is or could be in our lives. Despite the lack of the usual winter here, I've continued this practice, reflecting on the next chapter of my life. I've just finished reading Parker Palmer's On the Brink of Everything (he's in his 80s and still writing!) He reminds us of a critical task of getting older: complete self-acceptance. He also gives counsel for daily living. He writes: "Reach out to the younger generation- not to advise them, but to learn from them, gain energy from them, and support them on their way." He advises us to "move toward whatever you fear, not away from it." And finally, he offers: "Spend time in the natural world, as much time as you can. Nature constantly reminds me that everything has a place, that nothing need to excluded. That mess on the forest floor--like the mess in my own life-has an amazing integrity and harmony to it."
We will need all generations to embrace our fears and find the path to protect the natural world we love and cannot live without. Spring is a time of hope, renewal, and another chance to start again. It's never too early for that spring.