But it’s Spring

I went to a zen meditation retreat with Karen Maezen Miller in Loveland Ohio.  It seems that it was the next step in my inevitable journey toward whatever zen is.  It drags me down its path with truth and light.  And it is really. freaking. weird.

She wrote this blog entry about our time together.


And that got me thinking, which is really, actually, exactly what not to do.  When I stepped outside this morning I was surprised by the bitter winds.  (Kinda stupid of me actually, given how it’s been lately.)  My daughter and I walked down the sidewalk past our neighbor and his son.  “Brrrrrr!!!” I said to the little boy in passing.  He seemed confused.  “It’s not cold” he said.  “It’s Spring.”  I smiled and thought how extremely adorable his response was, and on we walked.  As we held hands and swung our arms in the FREEZING March wind, I looked down at the sidewalk.  It didn’t take long to see the budding daffodils and blossoming crocuses all along the way.  It was very surprising to see those beautiful things pushing out of the dirt and into the bitter cold of an unusually frigid Spring.  It’s too cold, I thought.  They will die.  Why would they bud in weather this cold?

I think back to Maezen’s blog and laugh.  They bud because it’s time.  They bud because it’s Spring.  And my wise little neighbor was right.  Extraordinary.  Children astound me.


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