Spring

Spring is coming and the fog that was noticeably absent over winter has made an unexpected appearance. The world disappears overnight and it takes a while for it to come back again. When it breaks, the sun is warm, but it has been lingering. It could still snow yet but I hope it doesn’t. The crocuses have come out and the purple and yellow patches are cheering. It would be sad to see them crushed.

I had always associated spring with new beginnings. It takes less energy to wake up and the world looks different in the sunshine. It feels like a weight is lifted. I’m not sure I believe in new beginnings anymore. The past seems to stack up and becomes harder to break from. I know that sounds a little bleak. I do not mean it to sound so.

It is ironic that I am writing this at a time when I’m actually facing a new beginning. We’re moving to Kent in the next few weeks. I am leaving the shiny lights of London and a City that I have fallen in love with, after a few hiccups…

A new house, a new city (or, more accurately, spot in the middle of nowhere). It doesn’t get more beginning-like than that, really.

Maybe when the removal van draws up and I find myself unlocking a different front door and, then, stepping into a new hallway, I will feel differently – but at the moment it doesn’t feel like a new beginning. It is a new space but it is still me. Me, somewhere else. Me, wondering what I’ll find there.

Maybe I have reached a point where I no longer need wipe-the-slate clean fresh starts.

I’m not sure that I believe in new beginning anymore, but I do believe in something a bit slower and a bit more continuous. A kind of gradual growth that is not clearly delineated but ebbs and flows. That is initiated by new experiences and new realisations which do not make up beginnings, as such, but next steps that are built on the things that have come before them and make up a journey, the route of which remains a mystery until you’re treading it.

And maybe Spring is not so much about new beginnings as it is about hope and movement. Or maybe that can start at any time and it has been unhelpful for me to attempt to link it to Spring. Maybe Spring is more akin to the moments when you notice how much you have grown – or are reminded that you can.

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