Spring Mourning

We've reached 19 months.

I thought things were really moving last month when my ortho put a stronger wire on my teeth, and they looked and felt better than they ever did before. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Spring was in the air, it was warm and I felt like I could take on the world. But last week, my doctor put on an even stronger wire and I feel like I've been smashed with a sledgehammer on the left side of my face. I've been off my game ever since. I feel like my teeth are moving too fast and I feel them moving every day. Though it might seem like that would be a good thing, my inadvertent mantra has become "It's not normal!"

But then again, Mother Nature is off her game too. The calendar says that it's Spring, but the snow which came last week, and threatens to arrive again tonight tells another story. I think Spring rushed in so fast that it needed to put on the brakes, regress, and move back to the strange "comfort" of complacent winter. No one is happy with arrangement. We're ready for warmth. We know Mother Nature can bring it to us. So what's the hold up? Why is she hiding the best parts of her when we so very much want to see it shine? Where are my beloved cherry blossoms that are yearning to show their pink finery in April?

I love this poem by Izumi Shikibu, as much as I love the soon-to-bloom cherry blossoms in my back yard. Everything changes, always too quickly and not fast enough.

Nothing in the world is usual today.

This is the first morning.

Come quickly—as soon as these blossoms open, they fall.

This world exists as a sheen of dew on flowers.

Even though these pine trees keep their original color,

everything green is different in spring.

Seeing you is the thread that ties me to this life—

If that knot were cut this moment, I’d have no regret.

Sleeplessly I watch over the spring night—

but no amount of guarding

is enough to make it stay.