Spring is playing with us here in Boston, sending us alternating blasts of wind, rain, snow flurries (not a funny April Fool’s joke!) and sunshine. Every morning I wonder if it’s warm enough for a light coat, or flats instead of boots, and except for two glorious 65-degree days and some warmer temps this weekend, the answer so far is always no. (Sometimes I cheat the weather by wearing my wellies through the puddles, and carrying my ballet flats in a bag. But the commute through chilly subway stations still requires some gear.)
While it is warmer than January and February (thank heaven!), the chill wind against my face feels raw, often wet, a little cruel. (Yes, I now know why T.S. Eliot wrote “April is the cruelest month,” though I still think February equally deserves that title.)
Winter, especially midwinter, is a season to hunker down, to “wrap up warm” as my friend Jo always says, to hide away in our warm houses with candles, tea and soup, and I’ve done plenty of that. No one can blame you for hibernating when it’s 20 degrees outside for weeks at a time. (Particularly when you are unemployed/freelancing.)
But spring invites us out into the light, with fewer layers than we’ve been wearing for months (or the promise of them). As Sarah said recently, “tender green shoots are not the only ones emerging from the safe darkness and into the unforgiving light.”
Spring is a season of new hopes – of planting and planning, of wee crocuses and other flowers poking their heads out of the ground, of bravely budding branches and a gradual coming back outdoors. Spring calls for shedding protective covers, opening the windows, stepping outside bareheaded, trusting the sunshine (while still dealing with the rain). It’s exciting, but it does make us vulnerable. It calls for some bravery instead of the comfort we’ve been wrapping up in lately. (No coincidence that these are my words for the year – one a holdover from 2010, one my focus for 2011.)
I’ve often felt raw and vulnerable, during this long winter in a new place – all the comfort in the world hasn’t changed that fact. But I’m stepping into a more hopeful vulnerability as the days lengthen and warm, and the flowers start to bloom. I’m hoping to step out of my posture of retreat, peel off a few layers, and come forward bravely – though still feeling a bit exposed – into the sunshine.
How are you dealing with – or throwing yourself into – the seasonal transition?
cakes, tea and dreams 
Another beautiful post from you – I especially like how you phrased that “spring invites us out into the light.” I was reminded of the Brene Brown TED talk on vulnerability. If you haven’t already listened to it, I think you will really appreciate it: http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html
I’m eating less ice cream and walking more often. Summer tee shirts are much less forgiving than bulky sweaters.