Whether or not you live in the Northeast, you’ve probably heard that winter came for a belated visit, right in the middle of spring.
Some people loved the fact that after a warm, arid season, they got a taste of winter. But most bemoaned the fact that they had to dig out their winter wears again, one week after walking around in shirt sleeves.
And on that note, the late visit from winter put a big dent in my spring.
Because one of the spring events I look forward to every year, is when my magnolia tree blossoms:
When the rude winter departed, this is what it left in its wake.
In the hyperbolic, go go go, live-your-best-life pressure to be your superhero self culture, it’s difficult to encounter nature’s setbacks. Somehow we see it as a personal failure. If, in your world, some winter has unexpectedly blown through your metaphoric yard and left crippled brown petals, I feel you. You will be tempted to take it personally. You may use it to confirm your own sense of inadequacy. You could turn your disappointment against yourself. You will look at other trees in other people’s yards that weren’t hit the same way and make yourself bad.
Because here’s what really happened: Winter came late. That is all. It happens. It’s not your fault. You don’t have to make a big stink about your personal equivalent of global warming. You don’t even have to work too hard to find a higher purpose.
And have faith: Spring will come. And if you don’t get to blossom fully this year, next year is right around the corner.
And remember, love yourself no matter what.