The windows reflect my movements as I set up my natural light box on the table. The bulbs are a poor substitute for the morning sun but they will have to do. The long nights of darkness and endless days of clouds wreak havoc on my psyche. A light box, exercise, vitamin D and outdoor walks are my weapons to combat these dreary Montana winters.
Yesterday I could see the sun ever so slightly through the blanket of clouds. The wet snow descended on my windshield as I drove towards the light. Maybe, if I drove up the mountain high enough, I could rise above the mantle of grey and feel its rays. Too quickly the cover thickened and vanquished any brightness emanating from the sky.
But I had seen it. If only for a moment, I had witnessed a glimpse of blue and the shape of the sun through the veil. It was a promise and a reassurance that the sun will return and spring will arrive soon enough.
I am reminded to be patient. I cannot push the seasons or change the natural progression of time. Season will come after season, regardless of my actions or emotions. This is not the time to use my will to force an outcome. There is a time to plant and a time to harvest, right now is not the time for either. It is a time of waiting. Passing the time can be done with frantic pacing or in quiet contemplation. No matter what my thoughts, time will pass the same.
In my class, I caution my students not to plant too early. If the soil is not warm enough, the seed will rot in the cold, wet ground. If the soil is walked on while it is still wet, it will compact and ruin future plantings. Starting seedlings in the windowsill before the time is right, does not insure a jumpstart on the spring garden. They become gangly and pale and will not survive when transplanted. Having been a grower all my life, I know these things and yet, I still find myself yearning for spring instead of accepting and relaxing into the winter.
The dancing of the candle flame in front of me brings a smile to my face. I see him as a light in the dark, one more sun behind the clouds. “Have faith and trust”, he offers me. “All is right in the world.” There is a Divine order even though I cannot always see it. For some reason, when the sun is on my back and I am making progress, it is easier for me to remember this. When I am forced to be still, I feel powerless and unproductive. But then what of the wheat field as it lays under the winter snow? It is resting and recuperating in order to provide once more in the proper season.
I will sit myself down and drink my coffee. There are no windmills to battle or mountains to climb this morning. Spring will come, the days will be long and there will be plenty of time to till the soil. The buds will swell, the trees will green, the soil will warm – and then, it will be time to plant. Today, I can select my seeds, plan my rows and dream my dreams. All is in Divine order. I will sit calmly today, waiting for spring.
