Every spring I have a certain amount of ritual that I do that cleanses my own spirit and propels me towards an optimistic outlook. It’s important that I do this every year, for many reasons why often rising before sunrise is important. I wrote in “Mad Man Knitting” how I truly did feel that the advent of spring was more New Year’s Day than the first of January was. I believe that to my core. A refreshing reminder of possibilities is allowed to play with one’s outlook, the hardening of winter disrobed, and the flight of life takes prominence in the glistening rebirth of those that find refuge in the sun light.
I saw my grandmother’s Bradford Pear trees blooming today. Or rather, I noticed them blooming, I should say. Practically overnight they went from lichen laden twigs as scrawny as skeletons, to blossoming, wondrous reminders that life begins again, from out of what seems harshness, the little white petals proclaim that life begins again. With the bees swarming through their nectar laced stamina, I was reminded that there is beauty anywhere and everywhere…if you make yourself aware.
As I trampled roughly through the spotchy earth, freeing itself of brown to reclaim the green of grass, I lifted my head and smiled at the sight of the blooms. Spring is here. And I feel like a man whose heart is everywhere….especially with my beloved, who isn’t here. (On a personal note, I still see you laugh just past the shed, covered in dirt. I yearn for us to be togethar again. Spring reminds me, that we shall soon…I promise.)
Now on to ritual.
1) I listen to Ryuichi Sakamoto. By far, my favorite composer, and by far the one who reminds me of spring, there is a particular composition he did for “Little Buddha” dramatic and enticing that pulls my hopes for the future into one pin pointed direction.
2) The Lesser Banishing, which requires more time to write about than what I intend for this passage. Do your own research. Make no judgements, and none will be made of you.
3) Read “Howard’s End,” my favorite book. I read it every spring, then catch up with the film for a day. I love that book, have been a blend of each of those characters so sharply written at different points in my life. And now find myself to be Leonard Bast….poor, Mr. Bast.
4) Remember that I am loved, by people in my life, yes….but also by the good graces of the sun, trees, and unseen above.