Once upon a time there was a man, an Italian man actually (and that of course reminds me of how thrilled I am with all of my biga fermented breads!) named Antonio Vivaldi. He composed beautiful music and remains world renown for his musical prowess to this day nearly 300 years later. Then of course - there are most of the rest of us chickens pecking and scratching for a grain or two of accomplishment - maybe a bug - maybe a bit of greenery outside of our coops - something to be remembered for after we’re gone. Most of us aren't looking for 300 years but at least let our scattered ashes enrich the earth for a bit before everyone moves on . . .that’s not too much to ask.
After attending one of the beautiful candlelight concerts late last year featuring Vivaldi’s violin concerto, The Four Seasons, an idea began to germinate and that idea was an exploration of seasons as emotions. And yes, I realize or at least surmise, that like most every endeavor known to mankind, this has been done before. Probably hundreds, thousands, or even (millions?) of times. Oh social media, why dost thou torment us so? So what? I hereby claim my few grains outside of the coup. So seasons as something other than the weather based divisions of our calendar years burst forth from the peat-free compost of my mind. At first it seemed like a painting but after some thought and the numerous distractions abetted by my precious great granddaughters, it became thoughts and words and like our kitchen cabinets, child-proof.
My Seasons:
Creative Season: My favorite season, while often the shortest, is the creative season. We find time. Our thoughts and ideas run free with reckless abandon. We are free to turn our backs on responsibilities and necessity for a short precious time and bathed in inspiration, we apply paint to canvas, words to paper, flowers to vases, and our homes become artistic works. Creations escape our ovens and we share with all of the special people in our lives. Glorious. A champagne euphoria fueled with exploration and uninhibited efforts rather than alcohol and humdrum hors d'oeuvres. (I’m looking at you pre designed and purchased charcuterie board!)
Season of Sorrow: Misery, tears, loss and seemingly endless grief. Loss is so hard. We recently lost a dear friend. To be exact, she was and remains Peggy’s closest and most cherished friend and therefore became very visible in my life as well. Looking back just a short time I see loss after loss of others similarly close in our hearts. It’s painful to even watch the loss suffered by others, much less experience it first hand. I suppose, with age, the losses become inevitable and regardless of our ultimate destination, the losses hurt. Ironically, just as I was finishing this we were informed of the passing of another acquaintance of ours. Such a sweet soul and today her husband begins his season of sorrow.
Season of the Mundane - the Prosaic - the Tedium: Everyday seems to present this possibility if we succumb without a fight. It’s much easier to go about routine without the slightest bit of inspiration - living in a vast sea of to-dos and the mindless execution of the every days. And that my friends is why we are encouraged to practice mindfulness. Do not waste another precious moment. Every moment has possibility. Do not allow yourself to dawdle about in this season - but who am I to tell you what to do? Just your friend - please listen.
Happiness Season: And last but not least is the season of happiness. We have the power to call upon this season most any time but sometimes it seems no matter how Herculean the effort, she flees. Still, happiness is just a thought away. A kiss away. A kindness away and holds the power to overcome. Artisan baker advice: seek her. Cling to her. Invite her to the front of the line daily.
PS - Therapeutic bonus blurb! We visited our favorite theater, the Neon, early this week and saw Driving Madeleine - wow! Just WOW! Great flick! It’s still playing - highly recommend as excellent therapy for your head and heart!
Inspiring and beautiful words and so true for this life we have been given. Each day is a gift of grace!
Fantastic read! Your thoughts are a book of short stories.