All we have is now…
March 1, 2023
Leaning into the present seems impossible at times and is especially difficult during the month of March in Chicago. The chance of a beautiful snowfall has greatly diminished and the promise of warm, sunny days is weeks in the future. So we are left with days of damp, rainy, chilly
Still, this morning, greeted with a message painted onto the sidewalk, we stopped for a moment It’s hard to ramble when the wind is blowing from the north, the sun is hiding behind a ceiling of clouds and the temperature hovers at 50 degrees.
March 1, 2023
It’s hard to lean into the present during the month of March in Chicago. The chances of enjoying a beautiful snowfall have greatly diminished and the promise of warm, sunny days are far in the future. We are left, instead, with weeks of damp, chilly, grey days typical of our midwestern spring.
This morning, on a walk that was hardly a ramble, we noticed a message spray-painted onto the sidewalk before us. All we have is now. Our pace was slowed by this gentle reminder visible before us on concrete. Someone had been busy…a wise graffiti artist? the time gods? We took the message to heart.
During the second half of our walk we did so with intent, scanning the earth more carefully for the seasonal changes that seem most dramatic after months without color. We witnessed the courage of the early plants nudging their way towards the soil. Small tufts of crocus leaves had already popped out, their little purple heads soon to be open. The daffodils were just beginning their journey, sporting flower tips that punctuated the leaf mulch with color. The Lenten Rose was forming buds that will be in full bloom by equinox. The robins have returned from wherever they spend the winter, filling the air with greetings.
Despite the cold wind that was stinging our eyes, we focused on the miracle of now. Happy, once again, for quiet messages that seem to appear out of nowhere.