I’ve been waking up around 4:00 AM this past week, trying and failing to go back to sleep, tossing and turning, half-heartedly practicing deep breathing that gets me nowhere. I’ve been thinking it’s got to be too many wheels spinning about this new way of teaching we’re embarking on next week. I am a little anxious, but I’m actually feeling okay about it.
Then it hit me: we’re coming up on spring. Every year, as we transition from winter to spring, my brain goes haywire. The cozy down comforter becomes too hot, the warm cocoon I’ve taken refuge in starts to feel confining. Last year’s plants in my garden, once dramatic against the winter sky, are now just scraggly and need to be cleared away.
New life is waiting to spring, and even more so this year: the 17-year cicadas are getting ready to burst upon the scene, and, of course, we humans are preparing to emerge from our year-long forced hibernation. Rebirth is in the air; it’s exciting, but I wouldn’t say no to a couple more hours of sleep in the morning.
My Corner of the Village 