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@allowingformagic

Holding out for the day when I see my neighborhood bursting with lovely tulips.

This is how February felt. Blue, blue, blue. Icicles looming. Snow piled on top of more snow piled on top of. Grasping desperately for the glow of sunshine on the far line. Slow and heavy. And then March rolls around. It is often one of my busiest months for some reason. And I think that’s a blessing. It ushers me through what I’ve come to call “Messy March Magic.” Cuz March is a big ol’ sloppy mess, y’all. It’s melting and murky and chaotic and still frikkin’ cold. And yet it’s so potent, so incredibly important. It’s the great renewal. It’s that feeling of wanting to pick the scab off before the skin has knit itself together underneath. Agonizing and exciting. Painful and hopeful. A testing of our patience. Can we really let go of our grasp on the timing of things and just let the world turn as she does? It’s better if we try. We’ve got gravity on our side.

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