Waking to a wondrous day, skies alight and awake and bright. The sun is up and it's saying let me warm you, hug you, give you every reason to be glad. The wind comes running along filled with glee, a reunion of friends, tossing your hair 'Wow! You cut it!' and tugging at your top, 'Nice!' - 'Now come on let's play!'
Sitting back, eyes closed to the wash of warmth spreading upon your face, the hue of sunlight tickling behind eyelids. The soft enchantment of water bespeckled grass humming vibrantly under foot, and a soft brush of blue filling in the skies above. It is May.
ITS MAYYYYYYYYY EVERYONEEEEEEEEEEE! Finally! My absolutely most favourite month! Just thinking that it's May makes me feel so happy, so...relieved! The fact that it's finally averaging 20 degrees C after SO long is just another feather in the happiness cap. As we already know, I thrive along with the dynamics of the weather, and while April meant that the world of nature was finishing it's last bout rehab after surviving the winter, with a few moments of beautiful freedom (read: first sighting of green grass, first days without socks, days without 2348239048239042 layers of clothing!) it's just so remarkable because of its days of grey rain.
Grey rain translates into me in a very ambiguous way. It seeps into my pores, into the very marrow of my bones, and dissipates a damp and wet gloom that taints and dilutes the essences of pure positivity that I've inculcated. As the skies flow and brim over, somehow so do my eyes.
I've wondered at my capacity to doubt, to have so little faith. Me, of all people, who has emphasized the effect of faith itself being the ability to maintain it, no matter what, for when you falter, that's when it shall as well, the possibility and fruition of that faith.
Somehow, today, as I walked in the morning sunshine down the downtown sidewalk to work, with my cup of coffee (size medium, not large, for the person who will growl at my coffee habit)...I reflected upon...well my own sanity. Just a few days ago, I was pretty much at my wits end. For reasons I could never truly put my finger on; an encroaching feeling of doubt and futility had fully ensconced within my very skin. I couldn't shake it. Furthermore, I needed it to be removed by the one who had that ability. To shake me and that doubt out of me. But things just somehow fell into a whirling pool of collecting overflow, dripping down the side of the pathway unhindered, pooling like a rainbow-tinted spread of oil upon a water that once was pure, so much so that I was not able to see my reflection in it had I looked. But I hadn't looked, because that same spread of pollution had entered my bloodstream, clogging and choking my own ability to breathe, to see. A cloudy haze spread over my eyes, overtaking even my ability to cry and wash it away. The pressure built, the lungs strained, and dam burst, and in the middle of a quiet morning in the house of spirituality, my tears had washed over unabated.
Was this the way Spring burst out anew? I couldn't tell. What if like the many numbering us human beings, there were millions of souls of Spring rather than the just one entity, all children of Mother Nature, all vying for their own ability to breathe again in the dawning season of life? I couldn't tell you, for I had a hard enough time trying to understand the being who was I.
A gladness suffuses in the aftermath, a restoration of thankfulness and cheer. I questioned my resolve: had I made resolutions when the new year began? For if I had, no other would I need but the reminder to remain steadfast in the things I believe in most, in the faith of that which without I wouldn't survive. To remember that programming chip marked with my name, embedded deep within: saying this is who she is, the girl who doesn't believe in fear, or despair, the solar-powered girl who can break out into a HAPPY-MAY-DAY dance right there on the sidewalk, clicking heels in her golden-hued shoes. I need to remember, that is me.