What I'm Taking Into March

Nope, no open water around here. Yet.
I just like to remember that it's coming.
Maybe in another month?


Suddenly it's March, and, as I do at the ends and beginnings of months, I've been looking back and forward. Here's what I'm taking from February's experiences into March. 

1. A renewed connection with the writer I was ten or more years ago, thanks to time at a retreat. It’s been incredibly freeing to revisit those past projects, cull what I no longer need, and honour the self who did that work. 

2. New writing, which is nice. Building on themes that have long been important to me, which is also nice. And in new, challenging forms, triply nice. "Nice" is starting to feel like an understatement here. OK: It feels good and I'm grateful.

3. A lightness—almost optimism? Maybe?—that’s for sure related to the changing seasons, but not only about the changing seasons. It’s great to have the morning sun in my eyes as I run errands wearing my lightest coat. 

Yes, there’s ice on the streets and the driveway, but it will melt someday. From year to year, I never doubt that spring will return, but this year I especially appreciate spring’s reliability. 

Maybe I'm talking about tenderness, just in general. Which always makes me think of that clip from Bull Durham, where Nuke is trying to sing "Try a little tenderness," and Crash stops him: "Nobody gets woolly." And then there's a good little speech about respect. 

Here's a link to the clip on YouTube. Enjoy.