April 6th, 2010
I write to you with an open heart, soul and willingness to embrace all that makes you so powerful, vulnerable and giving. Your gentle nurturing warmth has heightened my senses, melted the frozen stream of my heart and made me keenly aware that I am capable, ready and deserving of all you represent: Rebirth. Renewal. Growth.
You’ve crossed my path so many times before and I never looked at you the way I see you now. Sometimes what you’re looking for is right in front of you. Too cliché? Bad time to say,” I couldn't love a season until I loved myself?”
Thank you for waiting for me. My soul needed to experience the pivotal lessons of seasons past before I could open myself up to you. Yes, Summer burned me. Literally. I regret not applying SPF on Bastille Day. Unfortunately, my beret (that read, “My parents went to Champs-Élysée and all I got was this stupid beret”) didn’t block out the intensity of Summer’s brutally direct ultraviolet rays. Afterward, I sought the comfort of Fall and we had a short...intense run. I was undeniably touched by its depth, awareness and what it could do with autumn produce. Although I saw its beauty with the changing of the leaves, I couldn’t ignore that it had a mean streak and a short fuse that often resulted in the most unpleasant bursts of anger that would penetrate my thinly veiled being. At first I was angered and felt its darkness discredited its beauty. But then I came to terms that Fall was on its own journey. I can imagine it’s hard to have your season’s trees rolled with toilet paper every Halloween. Traumatic indeed. I moved on and hibernated with Winter for a short time. At first it felt comforting. But I am woman of the people, and only absorbing the energy of one tormented season of short days began to debilitate me. Although Winter was successful and performed blizzards all over the world, I felt trapped and my soul began to freeze and was no longer in sync with my life force. In addition, it came to my attention that Winter suffered from Hot Toddy-ism. I possess the compassion to stand by my seasons… but not when they’re mean drunks. It was devastating to leave Winter because I knew that I would knowingly be leaving one pain and walking into another. The depths of my soul were tested when I crawled through the frigid air, wintry mixes of precipitations and poorly sung Christmas carols.
I am not angry with the seasons of my past. I trust that they’re doing the best they can. Besides, they can’t control their proximity to the sun.
Sweet Spring, I’m aware that it does frighten us both to love gain. I know you have had despair in your past. We all remember what you endured during the blizzard of March’93. But you shook hands with your pain. The most noble of abilities. Saints sink. And rise again. Now you are strong, kind and steady (with the help of your global warming meds.)
Please know that I see how you look at me and your authentic calmness ignites an impulse of light into my being.
Nothing can express my sentiments better than the popular 1986 prom theme song by song Gloria Loring & Carl Anderson .
'cause I'll be your friend
And I'll be your lover
Well, I know in our hearts we agree
We don't have to be one or the other