Spring is a teasing balm and vexation all in one, it's tender buds and buzz of activity is a delight to witness but highlights all the more the durge of situations.
This morning I stood in the kitchen, hanging the last of the washing and wishing I had the worries of the children that cried their playful noise across the street, ones that can be soothed by tears and altogether forgotten upon a whim. The open window blew in the sequels and the joviality and amongst the noise my breath caught with a small boys shout 'FBI bang bang, FBI, FBI, bang bang', it is obvious which television channel had been tuned in within that household. To be so fresh with possibility and yet to fill your mind with such things. Perhaps naivety and innocence is not so attractive as the rose tinted view those of us further away from childhood like to view it with. Whenever we try and move backwards we need to move forwards as well, time moves in only one direction and that is a comfort even when it seems like a curse. To go back would to be denying ourselves of so much we have learnt along the way.
Time reveals so much, the buds shall burst as days pass, dreams come to be born afresh and others will fade. It's a tough reality for those who feel stuck in autumn never to move to spring, stuck in kindergarten and never graduating to real school. I have given up on promises, glimmers of hope, I struggle to envision the flower until the bud opens, to imagine the trees awash with leaves until they start to appear, to see the bigger picture and purpose until more of the jigsaw pieces click together. I feel like Sarah, laughing in her tent, laughing at the notion that the promises will come to pass, laughing at the pipe dreams that seem to daily become less and less possible. And yet a small spark within me, buried under reality, still holds out, trying to burn bright in the darkest moments. 'Isaac was born' it whispers, 'even after so many obstacles, after 25 years of a seeming empty promise, Isaac was born!'.