What’s the opposite of dying? Thriving, maybe?

I feel like I’m waking up. This is what Springtime is for me. A re-awakening. My senses are turned on again: suddenly I am overwhelmed with the smell of fresh cut grass, blooming choke cherries, and the natural scents of the tree bark. I am reminded to observe smell. The spectrum of colors is awake again, and I can’t help but stop in awe of the varieties of colors found within such a tiny little planet. Amazing. I am drawn to touch the new growth, berries and stickers and soft bodies of freshly budding plants; my movements more excited… My routines are more fruitful and my music is turned up just a little louder. Amazing how a (my) human body can lie dormant just like a rosebush. I feed off of my plants doing well. I feed off of tulips and daffodils. I feed off of observing weeds grow six inches in a matter of days. It reminds me to grow, to thrive.

I was dancing in my kitchen this morning. I hadn’t even had my coffee yet. Just shake shake shakin it, Jameson the Dane looking at me with distrust, his head cocked.

Part of my peculiarity is that I appreciate the absurd. As I wake up, I’m more prone to play jokes on the expectations we have. Hence the dancing by myself in the kitchen. Hence the listening to classical piano while riding the bus. Hence the quitting smoking during a difficult time. I’m aroused by the absurd. Or perhaps, when aroused, I am absurd. *chuckle*

I love having the windows open. I love the music playing. I love nag champa burning. Bells from the neighbor’s wind chime float in on the breeze right through my window, and they dance with my houseplants. I love this season. I love remembering to wake up. I can’t wait for my partner to be home so I can share this with him.

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