Monday, March 24, 2014

I Think Mother Nature Is Having An identity Crisis

There is a saying where I live in upstate New York that says if you don't like the weather, just wait a minute and it will change. This morning was a perfect example of that very thing.

I woke up to beautiful sunshine for a change. Although there was some frost on the windows and the rooftops, just seeing the sun after this endless winter was a blessing. It filled me with energy and I popped out of bed determined to get some stuff done that I had been putting off while I tried to shake yet another cold and another bout of "when will winter end" blues.

I fed the cats, parked myself in meditation and morning prayers for about 30 minutes, wrote "Flower Bear's Thought For The Day," (Flower Bear has a Facebook page where she lays down a bit of Bear Wisdom every day), then went into the kitchen to make breakfast and empty the dishwasher.

There are no windows in my apartment kitchen. When I came out with my morning smoothie in one hand and my coffee in the other, I turned the corner to go into the den to write, and ... it was snowing! A full-blown snow squall was blowing past the window over my desk. I could feel my energy meter take a plunge back into the red zone. "Are you kidding me?" I yelled to Mother Nature. "Can't you make up your mind what season you want to be?" 

I sometimes wonder if Mother Nature is having an identity crisis. Is it possible that she's been around so long she's going through menopause just like the rest of us? Maybe hot flashes one day and the need to bake in the sun the next? Does she get cravings for ice cream (okay, that's just me, it has nothing to do with menopause)? Does she feel like she's still 40 one day and 90 the next? Has she reached that age where she's just not sure who she's supposed to be?

I think the hardest thing about getting older is trying to decide who we are now, and who we are supposed to be. One day I'll spend the day working like crazy at my desk coming up with all kinds of new writing projects, or chuck it all and lace up the old sneakers for a good, long walk. The next day I ask myself why I want to burden myself with work when I can go out, have fun, read a book, start my indoor seedlings, etc. Who is this lady in the mirror with the grey hair and wrinkles anyway?

Quite simply, I am me. I am just me. I like walks. I like to write. I like to read. I love to garden even on a small scale. I love watching birds and squirrels at the feeders, and my grandchildren grow, and my first great-grandson smile when he sees me, and a really good salad, and really great pasta, and a blessed cup of coffee to greet me after my morning meditations. I don't have to be anyone else (they're all taken anyway, so the saying goes). So what if I want to write a best-seller one day and go play in the dirt the next? That's the great part about being me: every day is a new adventure and even I don't always know what it will be until I wake up and decide. 

So go ahead, Mother Nature, you be whoever you want to be today. If you want to snow, I'll put up a pot of soup and cuddle my cats. If you want to play at Spring, my sneakers are right by the door. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters.

And so it is.