Life in Colorado weather-wise seems to reflect my own life. We’re waking up mornings to snow on the blossoms, days of gray, moments of brilliant blue and color everywhere and then back to snow. I’m struggling with sleep, loads of work and feeling frozen, immobile to create beyond the necessary meals and lessons.
We are still in a place of not knowing. Yes, I know it will all work out. As I do not know where that working out will be, I feel unable to move forward. I struggle to find words to express anything beyond the waiting.
Some days it just is a weather problem. I was planning to spend the weekend outside working and it was simply too cold and snowy to plant, or weed. This leaves me feeling frustrated. I tend the few things in the greenhouse not wanting to plant more because I don’t know if I’ll have a place to plant those new seedlings in a month.
I should be ordering more materials for my herbal business. I’m low on labels and tins and things like that. However, if I’m no longer living here that means I would have to move more stuff and believe me, there are already so many tubs of supplies I can’t imagine dealing with more. Farmers Market begins next month though.
I feel like the blossoms on all the trees around me: just starting to burst forth in color and promise and suddenly, snow buries all hope. And I am frozen.
Well, at least I’m sitting here again, digging out the words. Pulling out my thoughts by the roots. It feels hard to clear the space to do the work. I know later I’ll be glad I did.
Guess the same will be said for the other work I need to do.
What’s the worst thing that will happen to those seedlings that I now see I must plant? They’ll just bloom in someone else’s garden. That will just mean I share the joy.