Spring has sprung here in New England . . . or rather winter has ended, more or less. Some days are surprisingly warm and sunny. Other days are soggy and muddy. It appears that the Easter bunny will not be leaving eggs nestled in snow clumps this year.
But while the northeast earth has been sprung from its deep freeze, I’m aware that I haven’t yet sprung. My mind is still imprisoned, held hostage to . . . the weather. Have you ever noticed how easy it is to feel cheerful, uplifted, and perky when the temperature rises above say 55 degrees? Wasn’t John Denver absolutely right when he sang, ‘sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy?’
Likewise, isn’t it easy to droop and mope when the rain keeps pouring? Sometimes I feel like my mood is a ping pong in motion: sunny-ping-cheerful, rainy-pong-cranky. Even though I actually prefer drenched days for reading and writing, I still sometimes find myself in a hangdog mood when the days turn drizzly grey.
For me, the challenge is to not let the weather dictate my mood! I know that climate variations are inevitable and temporary. I need to experience my personality as deeper than the capricious whims of cloud cover. I know that when I can meet all weather as fair, then I will be, like spring, sprung.
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