This new blog, this new life has been in the works for what seems like years now. And maybe it has been years, a lifetime even. At the start of each week for the past two months I would tell myself that this was the week. I would write my first post this week. Then I would get overwhelmed with work, kids, laundry, the need for 15 damn more minutes of sleep. And then I would convince myself I wasn’t ready.
The kitchen needed cleaning.
That stack of papers needed grading.
The kids needed attention.
My husband needed…oh wait, I needed that too.
Most of the time though, what stood in my way was others’ needs. Sometimes those needs were real and other times they were needs I exaggerated in my mind as an excuse to be busy, to avoid the hard, personal task of digging deep and launching what will be the greatest (in both senses of the word) change in my life. But last Friday I was seized by the feeling that this coming week, Easter week, was indeed, really and truly this time, the week.
Easter is for me what New Year’s Day is for others. I’ve never liked New Year’s with all its emphasis on resolutions. The idea that we can make a list and suddenly become new people who get up early, exercise, eat right, never get angry, and always do the right thing (you know, be perfect) always seemed hollow to me. Easter and its place in spring is a much better representation of change for me. Seeds and plants that have been dormant all fall and winter, storing up energy, emerge as tiny, seemingly delicate green shoots. But these shoots have been preparing many months for this day, and they survive late-season snow, the weight of human feet, the furious digging of squirrels, and countless other forces that conspire against their survival. This blog is like the birth of a child or the arrival of a spring seedling—it has been gestating for many months to be ready for this day. And like my garden and my children, I did not choose this moment. It chose me. It whispered,
you are ready, even if you do not feel it yet. Everything has been preparing you for this day. Have courage.
This blog isn’t perfect, and that is O.K. Perfection is not the goal. Sharing, honesty, and showing up even when I don’t feel ready. Those are the goals. And so I write. For me and for you. And I wish you the joy of rebirth and renewal today and throughout this season. The long, hard winter is over.