beautiful early-morning spring light through my curtains.
It's Spring. And my heart struggles with this, in a strange way. I know normally Sunshiney Natalie would be screaming from the rooftops (especially after a maple latte this morning) that it's SPRING YA'LL!
But really my heart is just in a little bit of a no-not-Spring place. Just a bit of a "let me stay here, buried in snow, I'm fine...really..." sort of half-smile place. More like the several inches of snow we got last night and the gray day here with my candle and vintage lamp and a warm mug of goodness in my fleece pajama pants (yes, still, at 11am #writerlife) snuggled under a blanket that has Love written in several languages on it. Just a little bit more of this.
I've been thinking lately of when I was little, how I spent so much time in my room quietly creating, happy as a clam to be in a cozy space creating beauty out of nothing more than glitter and gluesticks and paper and words. I would write all sorts of little storybooks and set up a shop to sell them to my mom for a nickel each. Just a happy little quiet Natalie-heart.
And then life.
You know what I'm sayin'?
Today is one of those days where I feel that unequivocally, life pressed down on top of my heart. Anxiety, selfishness, fear, bitterness...not so pretty.
See the truth of the matter is, I have a tender heart. I have a poet's heart underneath it all, when we get down to it. One that sees pain and the quietness and the joy of life and takes it in deeply. A heart that has been wrecked with pain and brokenness.
These soft hearts like mine don't just bounce back quickly. It is a bit more fragile. A bit more malleable. A bit more attentive and empathetic and a whole lot softer. It still hurts now and again and I face the thought of blooming into spring one more time with trepidation.
But I'm thinking how I don't want an "And then life" life. Not worldly-life. I want heart-life. I want quiet-beauty-inner-happy-deep-well-soft-heart-poet-eyes-take-it-all-in-and-bring-it-back-to-life-and-breathe-it-out life. A happy little quiet Natalie-heart.
So I guess that means I do want Spring. The beautiful, life-giving, revival of Spring. To breathe that in again and let it fill me. To sit with that for awhile, to heal and slowly be brought back to life.
"You take brokenness aside and You make it beautiful." Amen.
Happy Spring, my dears!