It's the new year, and I woke up this morning to unexpected snow. Not much, just enough to be beautiful and slow me down. It is the time of year for New Year's resolutions, and plans for what is ahead. It is the time of year to set your intentions for the next 12 months. I am not ready to do that. I am ready to stand still and see what happens. For every other year of my life there have been classes to either teach or take, and books to read, and goals, goals, goals. I like the idea that this time it is different.
Not that I don't have ideas, I do. But the sheer immensity of it all is too much to imagine right now. And this beautiful snow has me sitting and dreaming and feeling the deep roots that grow in the dead of winter. I want to make room for that, and if I move around too much or too hastily, I will lose those roots.
I heard a story on the radio today about a man who accidentally planted red Russian kale, a lot of it, instead of the turnips he had expected. Every year he grew prize winning turnips, but now it was too late. What to do? Change the care of the plants, know that they will last in freezing weather, learn to make kale soup. I am like this farmer. I don't know what seeds I have planted and I want to see what comes up. I am curious, but patient. Right now I want the unexpected, which I can only find by standing still and noticing what comes up in the spring.
I have read that in many cultures the new year begins in the spring. I like this idea. We have three more months of dreaming. No hurry.