You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Optimism.
It’s as simple as a blue sky. It’s as relaxing as a warm breeze. It’s a peaceful as a soaring hawk.
It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon. I’m in the back yard listening to a bird chirping. The tree before me is ready to burst. It is shedding its winter coat in front of me. It is a skeleton of twigs and branches, but I can see the tiny buds ready to flower. They are compact, squeezed in mother natures cocoon. Its wonder is ready to explode like a New Years day confetti popper.
It makes me think that the worst winter in memory is finally, slowly, letting go.
It has had a death grip on us. It physically assaulted us with ice and snow. It mentally debilitated us with months of darkened negativity.
Today the grey is less the blue is more. The sky, once foreboding is now a place of interminable optimism.
The sounds of rebirth are starting to wake.
I hear the birds. I can detect the laughter of a child on a swing set across a yard.
Soon lawnmowers will be cranking at all hours of the day. In a matter of days, bikes with training wheels will be heard whizzing down the sidewalk.
If you hang in there long enough, if you stay sharp, rope a dope with the winter devil for one extra round, you will survive.
Today, it feels like there is light at the end of the tunnel. It’s a big burning gas ball bathing me in an optimistic light.
It is warm and golden intriguing. My skin, my senses, my pores are inhaling the energy like gold-fish gobbling up colorized flakes.
My brain is relaxed, taking a vacation and it is processing possibilities.
What if I never go back to work?
What if I won the lottery?
What if I could be great at one sport, would I choose golf?
The grass is the color of cold straw, but I can see it is beginning to turn.
As a nation, we just set our clocks forward. They call it springing forward. I call it waking up and 8 am is really 9am.
Where the hell is 8am? I scream.
I miss 8 am. Gimme my 8am back.
It’s crazy, but that hour lost to springing forward will mess with my time equilibrium all day long.
I’d gladly give the universe back this hour for a feeling that it’s going to be all right.
Spring is officially a few weeks away now. Spring is a day on the calendar, but Spring is also a day in your soul that screams rebirth.
Remember Punxsutawney Phil. He saw his shadow. I asked someone shoot that rat. Nobody did. Or if they did, it was covered up by a top hat wearing mafia. But that rodent was right. Spring took a siesta. Winter kept its evil claws in us for a long time.
But Spring is here. It’s knocking on the doorstep. It’s shorts and tank tops and sitting in the back yard asking the tree to bloom. It’s sneezing and eyes watering and allergy season too.
What’s old is new again.
All hail Opportunistic possibilities with a forecast for more sunshine.
Spring has sprung.
Life’s Crazy™