If we go by what has happened historically, it feels as if spring in Cincinnati is practically non-existent; we go from the cold of winter to the heat of summer with a day or two of spring in between. Trees do go into full bloom and all, but temperature-wise, things just don’t compute in these logical brains of ours. At least around me, it feels as if we have all lowered our expectations around spring, hope to see spring, or even begin to remember what the season would/should feel like. Ironically, this year, it feels as if spring has finally come to us (or sprung, if you’ll allow me) with the beautiful blooms, the crisp cool weather, and some of those showers that bring flowers. We are waking up to the birds chirping, and it finally feels like spring… you know, it feels like summer is trying to make its way but continues to play tug of war with winter. Spring has finally lasted more than just a couple of days, but many of us still don’t seem to understand that this is spring.
But we are not all unappreciative of the beauty this spring has
brought. A couple of weeks back, I
was reading my Facebook posts and I caught one from my beautiful friend,
Rebeca, commenting on a series of conversations she had had with her son,
Marcus, over the period of a week.
The post read, “Marcus and I have studied the subject during the drive
to school for a whole week and have decided that the best adjective to describe
a cherry tree, in a perfect bloom, is ‘frothy.’” I loved everything about that post. I imagined the conversation between the
two – having witnessed their interactions often – and the tone of it. I imagined their agreement and their
awe-inspiring realization that “frothy” was indeed the perfect adjective for a
cherry tree in full bloom. The
epitome of spring. I loved
everything about that interaction and I loved that post.
Through this blog, I have shared the beauty and the
challenges of raising a child – my child – in this world. There have been many highs and
lows. I have always been so proud
of him and love him to the moon and back.
And… we still struggle.
(Isn’t that the human condition?)
This month, with spring, came a bit of a change. Jon and I went back to monitoring P’s
work a little more, but with a little more leeway to allow him space and time
to grow, or as his teachers and counselors put it, “allow him the opportunity
to develop ownership of the process.”
(I think I’m paraphrasing that statement.) Pablo seems to be doing better with school and I hope that
in this great arc of being a teenager,
this is not a blip on the radar, but a gradual maturing of my son into
his own space.
Speaking of maturing, with this spring, my son also
experienced his first shave, the continued interest in friends, “hanging out”,
and a spring dance with tons of dancing, screaming, and joy! Yikes. What is happening?
I’m happy for him and this new world he faces… and still go back to the
baby I cradled - missing him sometimes.
The ocean floor is vast...
On a personal note, this spring, I started my new
professional adventure: a new job
with an amazing company.
Every day, I am reminded that I made the right move leaving the comfort
of my old job to explore the world with this new one. Many years ago, a coach of mine shared the allegory of a
little crustacean which had outgrown its shell at the bottom of the ocean floor
and had to make a decision. “Do I
stay here and die from outgrowing the space or do I risk my life to crawl out –
unprotected – on the bottom of this ocean floor to find a new, bigger
home?” If nature kicks in, the
crustacean leaves its shell and risks its life for the sake of survival. Can you imagine how scary it is to know
that at any point in time, you can be “taken out” by a higher life in the ocean? Leaving a company for which you have
worked for 18 years, and going to a new one is pretty much like walking that
ocean floor unprotected. I know
that I have found a new home, but until I have gotten my sea legs (still
continuing with this ocean theme), I will continue to feel … well…
unprotected. And that’s okay, I
think.
Our world around us continues to grow and change. We all continue to change.
Bloomin’ Trails
Last fall, my sister and I were walking the streets of
NYC. On a window display in
Rockefeller Center, I saw a very simple ribbed cowl. I have no idea what it was about that cowl that caught my
eye. Because spring is so elusive,
fall is probably my favorite season, and that cowl said, “fall”! However, it took me all winter to
imagine what that cowl really meant to me. In an exaggerated fashion, I wanted something big and bulky,
cozy, and inspiring. So, I went to
work with one of my favorite yarns:
Burly Spun. I went to my
most favorite thing to do in knitting:
cables. And I designed an
enormous rectangle with braids and cables that in the end would zip up (with a
double-ended zipper).
The cable pattern is a simple intertwine of my relationships
with all my loved ones overlapping and crossing back and forth. The braids on either side frame
the journey and feel like the guardrails of life. Even in the field, we have time and space to play, but we
are all moving toward something, a future.
I realize that there have been many sad things happening around us. I leave you with my wish that each of us uses this time of change for renewal, to celebrate the good things that have happened, and to hope for better things yet to come. Spring has sprung and I hope our hearts do, too. :)e-
A big thank you to Demirus who so elegantly and naturally played with the ideas we presented and with such fun made this photo shoot and the "product" such a beauty. :)e-
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