Took a long-awaited walk around the block tonight, after having been cooped up inside for the past seven days with poor weather and even poorer health.  The sun even graced us with his presence, casting an orange glow through the trees as it set behind the river.  I tried to focus—on the colors, on the breeze, on my conversation, on my husband.  It wasn’t easy.

So much is swirling in my head—I’d end that sentence with “these days,” but these days are different from the rest only in the content of the swirling.  It is not at all unusual for me to be lost in thought, be it planning or worrying or creating.  My goal tonight was to not get lost.  I can’t tell you for sure if I succeeded.

Spring is not the only thing in the air around here.  Schedules and packing lists and deadlines—a lot is, as they say, “up in the air.”  Unfortunately, these things do not tend to float gracefully like balloons in midair.  Then tend, more often than not, to be more reminiscent of a dust devil kicked up by an unseen wind, swirling about furiously, kicking up all that is in its path.

I can live with this.  It is my own doing—well, no, that’s not quite true.  There is a force at work here that is greater than I—a Mighty Wind that is swirling my neat, orderly life around and kicking up all that is simply debris and blowing it out of my way.  I am simply allowing it to blow.  And standing out of its way.

In the meantime, I am trying to learn to focus on what is in front of me at the moment and not be distracted by flying debris.  A sunset.  Seventy degree temperatures.  Finally.  An hour with my husband.  Dinner with my children.  Blooming daffodils.  Bedtime stories.  Warm breezes.

Spring is in the air.  I welcome the Mighty Wind that brings the change of seasons, and I watch expectantly for things to bloom, taking care to pay attention to them.  When they are in front of me.

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