Hibernating

Cycles...

I fall for it every time. That creeping panic that this winter might just have been the one to have finally killed that plant I have my eye on. Checking each morning if any green is peeking through the soil, or if a new leaf has appeared on that bare branch. And each day that I don't find anything, the tension builds.

Well, this has been a particularly hard winter. Sleepless nights with a new baby, the emotional roller coaster of an adjusting four year old brother, and now the terror of losing my ability to walk. First I was afraid of not being able to go for a much needed run, to drive myself to work, to care for my children. Then I found, it was also about not being able to get in the shower alone, to get my boot on and my crutches accommodated quick enough to make it to the potty in time, or just the simple act of carrying a cup of coffee to the couch to sit calmly and listen to KUT in the morning. It became the torture of listening to my baby cry and not being able to soothe her or having to say no to my sweet boy who wants to go fly a kite on a perfectly windy day. "Sorry, honey, you'll have to wait until Papi gets home."

God! Who is this person? Bedridden and dependent. Grumpy and numb. It seems I can't even hear the birds singing through the haze. Just biding my time. Watching Spring through the window as if it is a season for everyone else but me. Time to see everything that needs to be done but no ability to do it. My own personal circle of hell.

At first I fought it, and even ended up flat on my back, head hitting tile, waking both children and Polo who had finally managed to catch a much needed snooze. It took him two hours to get them both back to sleep. Humbled, I resigned myself. Back to bed, ice on foot. Pain pills popped. Earphones on.

Why the need to hibernate? Why must a seed germinate? Why does the caterpillar scrunch up into a tiny cocoon before taking flight as a butterfly? Why do babies spend 9 months in our bellies before springing out into the world?

I gather up all my energy and hold it tight inside. Let Polo take over the house. Watch him lovingly as he cuddles with Tara and plays with Diego. Laughing with them both in the bathtub. Getting them both ready and out the door in the morning. Not a single complaint. Not even a grumble. Just his knowing smile at my more ridiculous requests and a gentle reprimand from my son when I get stuck trying to get out the screen door by myself without asking for help. I turn over the goings on at school knowing I gave it all I had and now just need to let go. Gratefully accept the outpouring of help from family and friends. Make lists of what I will do when I get back on my feet. Remind myself that I am one of the lucky ones for whom this struggle is only temporary.

Surrender to the process of healing...

Then one day I wake up and sense a subtle change. Life is slowly coming back. I feel the energy pushing up against my skin. Eager to get out and stretch to the sky. A fresh new start. A yearning to feel the wind, the sun, the rain. Ready to shed my shell and leap into another cycle.

A tender shoot digs it way through the dirt...

Today I hobbled along outside seeing what plants survived the winter. Greeting each leaf I recognized like an old friend. And so it begins again. Tara turns one tomorrow. I look at my kids and marvel at the little people they are becoming. I sit back in awe at how the days just keep coming. The sun rises and sets whether I have "done" anything or not. And I guess the better question is not what I have accomplished today but who I've become.

What will burst through the soil this year? What flower will unfold from that tight little bud? What fruit will ripen enough to eat? What branches will spread their shady fingers during the scorching summer heat? And I laugh at myself. I fell for it again. My plants were never dead, just patiently waiting their turn.

...a season for everything. Will I ever learn?