Tulip in bloom

It is late April. All my windows are open and I feel the cold air rush in and around my home. The new air is coming in and I can nearly see the stale, pallid air rushing out. The cold and newness is touching everything I own, giving a hint of what is to come.

I’m feeling particularly inspired now, though I have no reason to be. One of my favorite songwriters, Roseane Cash, said that inspiration is not linear. You are not always inspired by what has happened to you. Sometimes you are inspired by things that have not yet happened. I’m feeling the pregnancy of a moment not yet on the horizon. I’m not sure sure what to do with it yet, but I know that opening the windows and doors of my home, my heart and my life will let the cool touch of newness in where it needs to be. Change will occur where and when it is meant to, and my job is to be here and do what I know best – to observe and record what it is that has become my life.

My life is not always (or even regularly) filled with flash or even excitement. But it is always here, waiting for me as I awake, and standing steady by my side while I sleep. I can be grateful for that.  There is a bit of heaven that  awaits me, if I choose to see it. It is in the clouds that roll in and out of my view; the rain that washes everything clean, leaving a slash of green for weeks to come; in the moments where I know I am, finally, becoming the thing that I have been all along.