I know a good thing when I see it...and let me tell you, there's nothing like discovering brand new daffodils poking their heads out of what used to be the frozen tundra of my backyard. It's a small, but significant sight this spring...especially for a gardener who's looking forward to hitting the dirt again this season.
It's a bit on the cool side to go out and prune my holly bushes. To rake and aerate the grass. To even go for a bike ride. So while I wait for the sun porch to warm up, I'm cleaning the house. Working in the office. And shredding a mess of paperwork that's been piling up in my basement for years.
Yesterday I purchased a new shredder and have been tearing through documents dating back to 2000. It's a strange feeling to completely destroy years of paperwork that went into building my yoga business. To render unreadable long-ago discarded drafts of my novels and sift through endless stacks of receipts for books, CD's, candles, and yoga mats that have long since been read, donated, burned up, or recycled.
But it's a freedom, too.
I don't usually spring clean as I'm more of a "do it all in the fall" kind of gal. Sure, I wash the windows. I launder the drapes and air out the bedding, but I leave the truly heavy work for September and October when the cooler weather gives me a rush of adrenalin.
This year's been different as the warmer weather has encouraged me to throw off everything that has been weighing me down this winter when I was trapped inside for months -- staring at the shelves of stuff I no longer want to keep. The clothes I no longer wear. The excess stuffed in my closets that needs to be released. Just as I've been wearing less layers of clothing, every week I've been gleaning it all level by level. Now I'm down to a pair of yoga pants, a tank top and cotton sweater and my office is nearly free of the fuzzy little papers and dust that have accumulated as the shredder hums along.
It's a little like karmic housecleaning...this letting go of all the documentation of my past successes. My mistakes. My false starts and high hopes. I'm looking forward to next year when I can starting eliminating 2007 and the three years that followed which left me charred, but fertile enough to start all over again...and in more ways than one.
This afternoon finds me discarding the discomfort of this past winter and looking forward to lazy summer days in my backyard. Anticipating when I can wear shorts and tank-tops and flip-flops. Longing for longer days and warmer nights so I can sleep with the windows cracked open and listen to the crickets chirping in the darkness.
Still, springtime has its charms and I'm thankful this year it's been slow in arriving. I don't miss a day out in the garden, watching for signs of life. I clear away the dried leaves and rubbish from last year and wait for new growth to appear. The waiting and wondering can be the hardest part of gardening -- or of life, for that matter -- but in the silence of anticipation, I find myself looking forward to what might be and more fully letting go of what has been.
Yes, I know a good thing when I see it...and even more so when I feel it deep inside my heart.