The first day of spring was hazy. The air, not my head. This time. Things have changed a lot since last spring. The mild heat in the air reminded me that soon I would require less covering, and should really set about sorting out the thin layer of blubber that encased my body at the moment, like gelatinous fat hidden underneath the crispy skin of pork belly. If only I could simply slice it out as I would a meal set in front of me. However, like everything in life, it’s not going to be that easy. Regardless of the small issue of excess winter cuddle I felt supremely confident in the new season and what it would bring.
The beginning of spring is seen as a time to put away your heavy winter coats and blankets, and throw open the windows to the world, let the light shine through your previously closed up homes. It’s a time of regeneration and growth, for animals and plants alike. The sunlight begins to linger around a bit longer, and your days start to feel increasingly full of possibility. It’s the beginning of a season which favours lounging on the beach, and letting the warmth soak into your skin, before dipping into the water to cool off. It brings about the compulsion to unwrap your picnic blanket and mozey down to the nearest park with a block of fromage. Hope and promise bloom in the wake of spring, which has led me to consider my continuing search for freedom of self.
Over the past 6 months I have managed to abstain from drinking but I haven’t really found time to change any other areas of my life significantly. I guess you could say it has been somewhat of an adjustment period, and I have been paddling about, trying to keep my head above water, attempting to find even ground. Essentially a lot of energy has been placed in my sobriety, and my writing, and managing the day-to-day activities humans must engage in, like working and sleeping and eating (obviously a little too much, hence small blubber issue). However, finally I feel adjusted to my new life, and am ready to set about making more changes, bigger ones. I am ready to grow. I am ready be unrolled like a picnic blanket, and set free.
By some strange coincidence the first day of spring also coincided with a children’s circus class I help to teach on Saturdays. The theme this semester was mystical animals, and we all had to dress up as mystical creature we use to be in our past life, before we were humans. My co-teacher kept repeating ‘we are going back to our true selves’ to the children, who realistically probably had no ideas what was going on but were happy enough to jump around the room in colourful tutus and feathers, climbing on circus apparatus to the sound of a beating drum.
You’re probably wondering how this would count as a ‘strange coincidence’ when it really just sounds strange but over the past week I have been thinking a lot about honouring my true self, and not bending to become a person I think I should be because it is the ‘wise’ or safe option. I’ve been craving the chance to return to my true me, and here it was presented at me, quite abstractly, during a children’s circus class on a Saturday morning. Just in case you were wondering, my mystical creature was a mermaid, and my name was mermiferous.
Therefore in the spirit of a spring clean I am cleaning up my life (as well as my diet. And probably my apartment. When dust starts to resemble tumble weeds you know you can’t pretend any longer). I’m packing away everything I don’t want in my life or no longer serves to improve it, and I’m going to seal the boxes and label them ‘never return to sender’, and then I’m going to re-pack it with items I do want, and dance in the afternoon sunlight as I rejoice in my freshly made plans. I know this all seems a bit vague but all I can say at the moment is plans are unfolding, and I’m changing the location of the pins on the map of my life. Quitting alcohol was only the beginning, now it’s really time to get dusting.
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