I’ve been taking quite a few pictures lately, that record the slow crawl into Spring on Beaver Island this year.
The snow is receding, no doubt, but still blankets half of my garden and much of my yard. Temperatures are rising, but the dampness creates a chill. It’s not time, yet, to turn off the heaters.The ice in Lake Michigan is still posing a challenge; our ferry boat just announced a further delay of their first trip. Flooding and freezing are still creating drainage problems. Every day there are more signs of Spring; every day there are a dozens reminders of the Winter that just doesn’t want to let go.
I am watching…and waiting.
Too much waiting leads to discouragement.
I’ve written about it before.
Waiting is that limbo state that anticipates but doesn’t offer anything. It delays and postpones. I fall easily into it at any time of year; this particular Spring is only one example.
Waiting becomes the place I am in.
When the wait is over, something will happen.
When the house warms up, it will be easier to finish all of my Spring projects.
When the snow and ice are gone, I’ll be able to get back into the garden.
When the snow melts and the water recedes, I’ll be able to get back into a good walking regimen.
When it gets warmer, I’ll feel more like eating lighter and healthier meals.
What does that leave, right now? This lumpy, lazy, slothful person waiting for the elusive “when!”
No wonder I’m discouraged!
This is an old battle, with me. I’m a procrastinator by nature and have sufficient skills in logic to justify and explain.
I’m also too smart to be misled by my “logic” for long.
Then, it’s time to dust myself off and give myself a good stern “talking-to”. It’s time to rise up out of my slump and get busy. Time to appreciate each moment , frosty or not. Time to mark accomplishments, not just days off the calendar.
Life is too short, really, for waiting.