paradise lost

My Dad is a very involved and devout evangelical Christian. I used to be, twice. If you’ve been reading, you know I’m not any more, not at all. This makes for some interesting conversations.

flip

The weather is changing here, winter giving up ground to spring, even though there's a fight for it, and everyone seems really tired this week. It felt that way in Aikido, at hockey, even in yoga where a majority, independent of one another, asked Julie if the vinyasa was going to be hard today.

Seems like the change of seasons is just taking it out of folks this year. Or maybe it was the winter that took it out of us, and now, with the promise of spring around the corner, we just finally feel safe enough to acknowledge it, safe enough to let the fatigue bubble up to the surface.

Me, I think it’s more like the way a lake will flip, the bottom water exchanging with the top as the temperature rises or falls, spring and fall. When it does, it dredges up all the silt, increasing turbidity for a week or two as the flip occurs. I have this theory that our bodies know better than we do. And the flip dredges up all the toxins to make space for the new season. If we’re listening, if we’re on it, it’s a chance to clean things up, wash the toxins out, let the current take away the silt.

The other thing the lake flip does? It re-oxygenates the water, bringing the life up to the surface again, just in time for the sun to reestablish dominance. Hello sun.

Equinox is in two weeks. Get out your shorts and flip flops, folks. Maybe grab a metaphorical broom too.

And...