cold snap

Spring's here. I know it is. The light comes earlier and stays later. Proof positive that the sacrifices offered on the Equinox were not in vain. But why then is it cold? Isn't spring supposed to be warm? Now that we've been given the gift, why aren't warm fuzzies there to embrace us on a consistant basis?

But then again, life doesn't allow a presumptive comfort. Bases are rare. Sanctuary is an unusual comfort and perhaps not even a real one. Such an assumption that we don't have to deal with that which comes to us, on its own, without filter or padding is rather arrogant. The world is given to us, a gift as it is. People come to us as they are. The best of them are honest polite enough not to abuse us. Their honesty helps create the edges and bumps in the topography of our living.

I like bumps. They've been tough enough to live through the erosions of peer pressure and exhaustion. They stick out and say, "Hey, wait a minute." And when they come from people I love they are interesting enough to appreciate. Sometimes moss grows on them and they become outcropings of new ways of looking and considering. Or they become reminders of my own limitation. Or they become foundations for new structures. I guess that's called learning, perhaps that's called living.

Anyway, the cold makes my face hurt. But the daffodils are still blooming. Appreciate the gift, even when you're shivering.