Strawberry

Check this out:

"There is a story of a woman running away from tigers. She runs and runs and the tigers are getting closer and closer. When she comes to the edge of a cliff, she sees some vines there, so she climbs down and holds on to the vines. Looking down, she sees that there are tigers below her as well. She then notices that a mouse is gnawing away at the vine to which she is clinging. She also sees a beautiful little bunch of strawberries close to her, growing out of a clump of grass. She looks up and she looks down. She looks at the mouse. Then she just takes a strawberry, puts it in her mouth, and enjoys it thoroughly. Tigers above, tigers below. This is actually the predicament that we are always in, in terms of our birth and death. Each moment is just what it is. It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat. We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life." 
— Pema Chödrön

That's all it is, folks. This is all we have. Precious moments. We can savor the strawberry, or we can fret about the tigers.

As I mentioned before, Spring was when my two most significant relationships began, and the longer of the two lasted about two and a half years. It is long over and recovered from, and I seldom think of it anymore, but it has crossed my mind more often than usual over the past few weeks--probably because this time of year was when it began.

When I think back on it, the only thing I regret was the time I spent trying to prove to him that he didn't love me as much as he thought he did, that I loved him more than he loved me. I regret worrying about most of the things I worried about, and letting my insecurity cloud my appreciation for what was there. It was not perfect, and we were certainly wrong for each other as long term partners, having different values on all of the things the experts agree are needed for a lasting relationship--money, religion, politics, etc. I think I always knew this, which may have been why I spent most of it focused on tigers rather than the strawberry.

But all of that worry, that focus on what was wrong, was pointless, in the final analysis. I might as well have just enjoyed it for what it was, when it was. Or just let it go, if there was no longer a strawberry. There are always going to be tigers.

Spring

(image courtesy of http://slices-of-life.com/2008/02/20/cherry-blossoms-are-sprouting-head-out-towards-japan/)

Last year at this time I had just moved to Washington and was overwhelmed with the energy of a new life, a fresh start. It was magical. Now, as the sun hits the earth with the same light it did then, my senses bring me back to that time, that feeling. The brightness of the world, the warmer air, a familiar perspiration as I walk to work, the smell of rain and plants in bloom. 

Spring is always full of possibility. The move to Washington, and the two most significant romantic relationships of my life, both began this time of year. Spring was also the first time I played a solo show, singing songs I had written and playing guitar. It was when I began practicing yoga at Yoga District.

In Spring, the trees and flowers with their buds and blossoms remind us they are still alive, and in turn they remind me of how I felt last year, reminded that I was alive. I felt like I had been asleep for a long time, and finally woke up.

At the time, I thought that it was because I moved to Washington.

But maybe it was because it was Spring.