Warning: Naughty language ahead!

 

If winter is a time to be hold up hibernating with depression and regression, then spring is a time to be remembering, clearing and creating.

Sometimes in the light of spring’s initial rays, it’s tempting for me to forget that these first few enthusiastic forays are often also the spastic, last rattle of winter’s woes. Wind whips last year’s most stubborn leaves from trees, while frost kills those shoots too enthusiastic to wait with wisdom for winter to fully whither.

Colds sweep through studios, schools, and workplaces…psychic fallout from the holidays linger…

Seems we might be wise to remember that spring is nature’s way of making us earn summer.

Like those nasty, gray lingering snowdrifts in the corner of parking lots, my desk has been awash with stacks of paper. On top of that, many of my relationships were in need of tending, and my responsibilities needed…remembering. But instead of getting mired in the thought of it, buried by the weight of it, and discouraged by the sheer fucking amount of shit, today I did something about it.

Spring has sprung in my being and I’ve decided it’s time to get on with it.

I went about today with the intention of clearing some clutter away…

I then proceeded to spend an entire day cleaning my desk so that I could do some work on it. Admittedly, “Any amount is an inordinate amount” is a fun sentence to say, but is the scrap of paper I’ve been saving serving or cluttering me?

My desk was a start.

The space invited me to wake up, and in that space I did some makin’ up—made some phone calls and paid some bills (both tasks long overdue). After the wave is the wake, from a place of calm I finished a project and got out my paints.

If we consider the clutter in our external environment to be a reflection of the condition of our internal landscape, then I could probably use 30 or so days of sobriety and a three-day Vipassana retreat to boot. (In the winter I like to drink whiskey and eat mac n’ cheese—happily padding my belly with 10-20 pounds of winter weight.)

Rememberin’ invites some serious intention to the term spring cleanin’.

Not sure which way to sweep?

We exist in five lives—work (which gets most of our waking life), home (which gets the lion’s share of the rest), interpersonal (person to person with much overlap in the first two), personal (in between our ears and all but foreign to you), and play (which gets the lowly, leftover percentage).

Pick one and do some initial digging. Clean until clear and then remember to rinse and get repeating.

I don’t know what you’re going through—your clutter will be unique for you and it might be far more complicated than the words, “I love you”, “I forgive you” or “No matter what we’ve been through, right now I’ll allow you to be brand new.”

But, maybe it’s not?

In either event, set your aim high and go do your be, remembering that if you “fail” at something in life while you’re trying to fly, you’ll at least be able to die saying you took a big ol’ bite out of it.

This spring I’m expecting big things from me and I welcome you to expect big things from you too. (Yogis bristle at the word “expect,” but bristling doesn’t mean you do any less of it, does it?)

Remember the capacity for creativity we have within us. Remember the people in our lives that look up to us. And remember that for us to be our best, we need you to be yours. Not the person next you or the one related to you—we need you if we are going initiate the change this world needs.

So get to it, but remember to take care of yourself while you do it—wisdom is the better part of valor, and a bowl of bone broth is just as lovely when enjoyed in warm weather. Nothin’ good ever came from rushing, and those buds at the head of the charge are often the first ones dying.

 

Author: Justin Kaliszewski

Editor: Nicole Cameron

Image: Ryan McGuire/gratisography