Last week, when I wrote about longing for Spring, a friend wondered if my longing for Spring might be a metaphor for a deeper longing. The seed took root. For the last few days, I found myself thinking, “In what ways does my life feel like winter?” and “What am I longing for in my life? ”
Winter is the season of death and destruction; a time of hibernation and migration; a time of long nights and colourless days; a time of loss and contraction. I have been going through a long winter for several years now. My parents are slipping away; my dad’s life has become limited by pain and arthritis, while my mother’s mind is now wandering in the chaos that is dementia. My children are leaving home; creating their own lives; separating from their Dad and I. Three years ago, I lost a job where I managed a small team of people; we collaborated, supported each other, celebrated each other’s victories. Four years ago, my husband began travelling for weeks at a time for his new job. He is now away more than he is home, and when he is home, he is pre-occupied and distracted. My life, which used to be so full of activities, and people, and emotions, has become quiet and very small; flat and grey. The last few years have been years of loss and loneliness; years without colour or sound; winter years.
And so I am longing. Longing for the light to return to my life. Longing for new adventures, new relationships, new dreams to be born. I am longing for a woman friend with whom I can share the secrets of my soul. I am longing to be part of a team once more; to feel the sense of comraderie that comes from working collaboratively towards a common goal. I am longing for my husband to return to my life; to be present in my life when he is present in my home. I am longing for more beauty in my life; more pleasure; less work. I am longing for the colour to return to my life; to smell and taste the sweetness in life again. I am longing for spring!
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