And the good news (for me, anyway) is that it’s not that I’ve run out of things to write about (au contraire!), it’s just that “life” has truly kept me from it. I’m ironing out the details of managing the “life,” to make more room for me to do more of what I’m happiest doing. Writing. Writing. Writing.
In the meantime, a little Easter pictorial. The clouds agreed to take a break and the sun came through for us for most of the day.
Religious holidays have become more challenging for me every year as I grow farther from my Catholic upbringing. How to explain to the kids? What does it all mean? What DO I believe? Easter is one of the easier ones for me. Spring. Rebirth. Renewal. I can do that. The whole year through I am all about the tiny little deaths that come with all the beginnings and endings along the way. Oh how I grieve those losses. I take it pretty hard. Easter, for me, is like one big celebration for the year of those losses and how we keep on going and finding ways to rejoice in life anyway. It’s the living in the truth of both things at once. Hope does indeed spring eternal, and thank goodness! We get to count on it every spring. The tender green shoots pushing through frozen dark soil every April.
I love Easter for its unwavering optimism and the reminding through its eggs and bunnies and daffodils the cycles of the seasons, of our lives, that life and death are all turns on the cosmic wheel that keep on going around and around. . . and there’s no way off, so we might as well ride it.
Which I forget most of the time. Easter walks us through this with the week-long rituals leading up to the death of all deaths on Good Friday, and then two days later. . . life! Impossible, implausible, but walking, breathing, blessing, life. Whoa. I’m sounding awfully religious for a decidedly non religious person, right? But I just can’t resist a holiday that mixes the drama of being human sprinkled over ancient pagan earth worship, the culmination of which celebrates being alive.
Rock on, good Christians.