Spring's Arrival

“Winter is the time for comfort,

 for good food and warmth,

for the touch of a friendly hand and

for a talk beside the fire:

it is the time for home.”

Edith Sitwell

My astrological sign indicates how important home is to me.  My home surrounds me with my favorite collections of things gathered from all over.  Most items are insignificant to others, but I can recall their origins and why they meant something special to me.  I guess I could say the same about the friends I have gathered into my home.  Each friend being uniquely their own, but we all have a vibrant thread connecting us in some invisible way.

Winter has its share of beauty, but I find it to be so cold and dull.  I don't mind hibernating so much, it is the absence of brilliant colors, sunshine and warmth.  The winter is drab and my imagination feels stunted in return.  I have been told that today is the first day of spring, but clearly some one has neglected to pass the word along to those who control.

Most people watch television, but my personal favorite winter activity is watching a fire in the fireplace.  I can stare into a fire for hours on end being magically led to what has passed, the possibilities of dreams for the future, and what might need special attention in the present.   It is as though the fire dances around stirring stories within me.  Some stories are just sad memories, others are filled with laughter, and some are nothing but wonderment.

Winter hibernating doesn't take much effort on my part.  If I have my favorite quilt, I can cuddle up most anywhere and read or write for hours on end.  I have no need to communicate with anyone and I  seem to lack any desire to be out in the cold.   Actions always have consequences which in my case means isolation.  On some level I miss my circle of friends who support me so very well, and yet I find my self willing to sink deeper into the folds and creases of my soul.

The hermit side of my self seems to be gaining momentum away  from the extroverted part of me.  I willingly enter the deep caverns of my cave with candles glowing and a warm fire waiting.  Endless silent moments are like little gifts dropped lovingly upon me.  I love the silence and it intensifies the cloak of darkness draping over me. 

It is here in this darkness my light will reflect what is remaining for me to do.  It will radiate a brightness for me to view what loiters still that I won't allow my self to see.   As I shred pieces of my past,  into the fire they go.  Now kindled by the discarded trash, the fire grows, lifting the darkness and leaving a healing glow.

Hibernating in a cave being  content as a hermit, creates a social awkwardness when others are anticipating the extroverted side of my self.  The clashing of my 'selves' creates an anxiety that grows too loudly in my ears.  I discover my self retreating back into my winter cave, knowing I will welcome new growth in the spring.  When it actually arrives!