Spring is like a race with more rushing than any other season of the year. Everything outside needs to be done and is crying, “Me first!” The leaves I spent hours raking in the fall, (but my neighbors didn’t), have changed addresses over the winter and come to live with me. Weeds missed last year, have come back seven-fold this year.
I think it’s a sign I’m getting old when I find myself wishing life was more simple. I used to be a non-stop workaholic who thrived on an endless list of projects. Now . . . I just want there to be an end to all the projects. I want to take a nap or read a book without feeling guilty about all that needs to be done. I just want to sit in a daze and watch the wind blow the seeds off the dandelion and consider that the highlight of my day.
When were we deceived into thinking more is better or a sign of success? My new words to live by are, “less is more”, I’m tired of rushing, and “simple” is all I need.
Maybe I need to find one of the numerous benches in my backyard and actually sit on that bench, and “take it all in”, instead of letting spring take me under. Just an idea.