Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before.
~William Butler Yeats
This cloudy morning, I took the dogs outside for a walk around the chilly farm. As they wandered through the leaves, I looked around our little farm. I noticed the bright green moss on the roof of our home, the fading red paint on the chicken coop, and the cracked clay pots on the front steps. With the gray light of a winter morning, everything appeared to be more weathered than it had in autumn. It was a bit pitiful, actually, and my first thought was to toss my day aside and spruce up around the place.
I reminded myself, however, that today was not the day to take on such a task. You see, February is a month filled with personal anniversaries, some good, some bad, but all worth celebrating. And on the first or second weekend in February, I honor these milestones by taking time to myself, reviewing the journey, and offering gratitude for the Creator who has healed me and brought me to this place.
It is easy when we are feeling weathered to want to spruce things up or ignore it so we don’t have to deal with it. It’s human nature to want to avoid sitting with what is weathering us–it’s uncomfortable or sad or painful, and by golly, we are already challenged enough.
Yet, what we forget is that it is not just by our hand alone that we are healed, but by the hands and love and light of the Maker. All that is required of us is to trust the process, feel the emotions, and surrender the desire to “make it all ok.”
When we returned inside, I poured myself another cup of tea and scooped out another bowl of food for the birds. Today is the day I reflect on who I have become and how I am being nurtured for the next steps. You see, spring will arrive at some point, and I know that both the farm and my spirit will be ready to blossom when the time is right.