Seasonal Life

I know, how can you not compare life to seasons? The summer of youth, the winter of old age. It's been done so many times and here comes another comparison.

I always enjoy walking C. to school. Ok, the day it was 6 degrees out, not so much. But we get to watch the world around us gradually change. When school started, we watched the blooms gradually turn to apples and pears. Then the fruit dropped off and disintegrated into the ground. During winter of course, there was nothing happening except the cold nipping at our noses and ears.

Always though, there's the prattle of the kids. J. mainly shouts out things like "Moon!" "Burr!" (bird) and so on. On the way back, she'll have me go over the numbers on the mailboxes over and over. It's like she's trying to solve the mystery her big brother has the key to. C. will talk about whatever comes to his mind. Today it was life cycles. He mainly concentrated on what ate what. So I talked to him about how we're omnivores, look at us with our plant crushing teeth in the back and our scissor-like meat cutting teeth in the front. C. gasped at the pure simplicity of that, as though it was amazing that our bodies are built specific ways to do specific things, even our teeth. Well, it is, but as we get older we tend to forget. We talked about cows being herbivores and all of their teeth are flat crushers. The carnivore shark has only sharp teeth for ripping. I just loved seeing his wonder as we talked over these concepts and a little more of the world made sense. Right now, he knows only joy really. According to his teachers maybe too much, he's so happy he has a hard time reigning it in; his Sunday school teacher loves it. His regular teacher enjoys it too, but I can tell it's more wearing.

So while I see the 'seasons of life' aren't affecting him yet, something he said got me to thinking about how we see life in seasons. Right now I will stick with winter and spring.

Walking along this winter, there were only the crows really. Their ca-caws weren't frequent, but when they did sound out, it can be jarring and unpleasant. Even their glossy black feathers look foreboding in the spare landscape of winter. Now that spring is blooming into the world around us, the songs of birds fill the air. I don't know about you, but I forget those sounds are missing until they come back. There's still the occasional bossy crow, but also so many joyful birds to balance it out.

Life is like that. When you are feeling bare and empty, the only thing you remember is the grating sound of the crows. Suddenly, your entire life seems bad. It's all you can remember. At least, that's the way it is for me. I know it is for other people. It can happen personally (it's all about me, I am awful), or with a relationship (it's all about us, we are awful together). I suppose even projected on a particular person. Of course, the truth is, nothing is ever all bad. Just when you are feeling winter, it sure feels like it. One book that is often recommended for those of us living in a winter state of mind is Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy. The author helps you recognize your thinking habits and attitudes and how to gradually change them.

When you get to that point, with or without the book, you suddenly hear what we heard this morning on the walk to school. The singing of many different songs. Sometimes it all blends into the background, sometimes one twitter stands out more than the other. When you hear the annoying ca-caw, it is just part of the entire picture, instead of taking it over. And maybe, if you're lucky like me, you can also listen to the prattle of a little voice talking about birds eating worms and some animals eat leaves and fruit and vegetables and...

And you hold that small hand tighter, smile to yourself and tune out all songs but that one.