I want to post a blog touching on one of my usual themes—wonder, creativity, humor—but today those feel a little scarce.

Well, I do feel wonder as I sit today in this blizzard, the worst I’ve seen in many years.  And in mid-April yet.

I know a few of you are living where spring has indeed arrived. I hope you are full of renewed energy.

For us in the Midwest, not much has changed for the better in the outer world in the past two weeks, when I wrote about struggling to find my patience. Now that impatience–for spring, for positive change, inside and out–feels more discouraging than angry. I feel kind of muffled and mired, able to do all the necessary daily tasks but lacking the will and energy to do the many things that would probably lift my spirits and vitality.

Or maybe just feeling tired of doing them all winter and wanting a change.

Wanting the sensual contact with nature that spring brings. The grounding. The joy.

I wrote this poem several years ago, but it feels appropriate today as I realize what’s missing right now (not all of which involves springtime):


For too many days now I have not danced,

tickled spritish spirit with leaps and twirls,

or dissolved, exhilarated, in sunshine splash,

been pricked awake by gusty winds or cardinal call,

clutched rainbow blossoms to my greedy nose,

or burned to merge with musk and sweat.


Too many days since I have sought the dark,

ventured in, with quiet breath,

pen in hand,

to listen

and dictate

whisperings wild.


begin—stop—veer—clunk! rattle!–turn back–

foggy wisps of longing, lurking,

I haunt my days, a noisy ghost,

feet hovering just above the ground.


Nothing to engage the gears

to make the wheel turn


How are you feeling these days?

What ways have you found to stay grounded until spring truly arrives?

How are you cultivating your joy?