And yet…

I tried so hard to plan, to prepare, to be ready for a hard winter. I got a gym membership in late summer to establish the habit. I started using my lamp (finally) in December. I’ve kept up on my vitamins and healthy eating. And yet…

This was a REALLY hard winter for a number of things–illness, bruised heart, anxiety about dramatic cultural and political shifts, cold weather, anniversary of the hardest time in my life. I don’t know if my efforts actually mitigated things and they might have been even worse, or the circumstances of life simply overwhelmed my best efforts.

Finally, it’s March. And I’m emerging from the feelings of “would I have chosen to be born if this is what living feels like?” to hope again. Like I said, a REALLY hard winter.

And yet, in the darkest of moments, I had friends drop off Powerade and tea, siblings checking in on me, my kiddo offering grocery store runs, her mom bringing me lunch. And yet, I had people offering reminders of what is good, why we are here, to love each other, to lift each other up, to remind us of our core selves. And yet, I still had the energy to paint and create. And yet, I had kitties curl up next to me, purring, keeping me warm, offering comfort.

This world seems more absurd than a 20th century French author might even suppose and may continue further on that trajectory. And yet, our commitment to one another, to choosing hope and joy, to building instead of tearing down, to making the table bigger instead of excluding, to asking ourselves, how can I make this journey a little easier for others, to possessing a spirit of gratitude…

And the light and the flowers sure help, too.