A Tale of Two Seasons

Winter: I went to work. It was hard. I left in the dark and came home in the dark. Is it always dark? I looked dazed. Someone joked, "These are not the droids you're looking for." Finally hearing the words, I responded, "Okay." Everything felt heavy - my body, my mind, my emotions, even orange juice felt heavy. Why in the world would orange juice feel heavy? The work day ended, but the night never ended. Grey, grey, and more grey. Cold seeped into my bones...never quite warm - more clothes, more layers, more covers. Laughter diminished, sensitivity to hurt increased. My bones ached. Hope quit. Creation groaned. Blah, blah, blah...sleep.


Spring: A tiny green blade comes up through the crack in the sidewalk, spreads its arms and stretches after its long slumber. Blossoms from a thousand different trees and flora fill my senses - the aromas of oranges, the spectacular light greens, yellows, oranges, and blues of plants who I know intimately but not by name, softness of new born leaves and toddler flowers. People smile; I smile...no reason in particular, just smiling to be smiling. As Elf said, "I like smiling. It's my favorite." or something like that. I love it that someone thought up such zaniness as Elf.

God awakens from his slumber.

The light returns - blinding, penetrating, warming, uplifting. Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy - I agree with John Denver. I agree with everyone...everyone is right, and nice, and beautiful, and we will all "live happily ever after in springfield of meadows" (quote from an early Jessy Lauren Smith work). Springtime proves Jessy has a bit of prophet in her and proves something good in every single person on the face of the planet.

Sun dresses, surfer shorts, flip-flops, t-shirts. People run and jump and dance and act goofy...and smile some more. The young couple on the bench flirt – poking, joking, jostling, holding hands. I pass an old guy on my walk downtown and he's grinning from ear-to-ear...he's not stoned...he just likes the day and the day likes him. I do believe it really likes him. It likes all of us. It bends down to kiss our brow with love and pat our forehead with kindness.

Gentle breeze embraces me, swirling around my body, lifting me up higher and higher and higher. My muscles relax and my mind stops spinning. The sunlight washes the scales from my eyes, my mind, my body, my emotions...even the orange juice. I don't care that the whole orange-juice-scale metaphor breaks down on hundreds of levels…because it doesn’t matter…nothing matters but the new moment overflowing with love and freedom and joy and light and music and goodness…and smiles.

I believe again.