The task is to write about beginnings, but its hard when the world is asleep. I look outside and see the mark that winter has left on the earth....the crunchy, brown grass, the trees that have forfeited their leaves to the winter wind, the bare wisteria vine that clings to the side of the house. Nature does not speak of beginnings just now.
Just now, we are far from the green trees that spread their leaves in summer and offer shade to the hottest parts of the yard. The insects and animals have gone into hiding to escape the cold and I miss the birds and the butterflies. We still see the occasional deer but not nearly as often and only one or two instead of the families of six that normally roam the woods.
All of life seems hidden, waiting for that perfect moment when the cycle can begin anew and things can start to live and breathe again. The moment when the earth is tired of being dead and instead starts to bring forth life.
But even as I sit and write this, I feel overwhelmed with the enormity of life. I'm up and awake and going through my normal routine, but across town in a hospital bed my sister is cuddling a brand new baby, a beginning while the world is in the middle of all its endings. It still seems surreal.
I am wondering where in the world I'm going to put him in my heart. His older brother and sister have already taken permanent residence, and so now I scoot them over just a little to squeeze in a third. And, of course, I think about the future...what will I do when I have my own?! How many can a heart truly hold? I mean, truly...not friends or family who pass in and out of your life, but the people who will be there forever, who will stand around you when you are old and care for you when you can no longer do it.
So, today, I am thinking about life and about cocoons opening to reveal their secrets while the rest of the world is asleep. Yesterday was a beginning right in the middle of all these endings, and I'm looking forward to it.
There's a certain uncertainty about the whole thing, a certain fear and curiosity that comes with not knowing, not knowing what the future will bring, or what tomorrow will hold. But then again, I think, maybe, that that is what beginnings are for.