winter's last

Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
——T.S. Eliot

OK, I know what you're thinking, a post on the end of winter should go back before the beginning of spring. But think about it: Our calendars tell us when the first day of spring is. What is ignored is the last day of winter.

It's as if we're meant to forget the old as soon as we're presented with the new. And though we like the idea of a clean break, that's not how life is. Just because it's officially the first day of spring doesn't mean that it can't still snow. And the fact that it was winter didn't hide our eyes to the coming evidence of spring. She didn't just turn up on March 20. We saw her coming. We had a spell of warmer days. We had markers that a change was happening.

We loiter in winter while it is already spring.
—Henry David Thoreau

In life, there isn't a separation, a mark that says what came before is wholy separate from what comes after. Firsts and lasts overlap, beginnings and endings are mixed.

Last Wednesday, my friends filled my living room. And though they were around me, the winds of change were around me as well. It may have been spring's third day with winter officially retired, but in that room it felt like a crisp, knowing winter wind whirled around my head as I listened to their chatter. The chillness whispered to me. It said we were drifiting apart.

Where I once knew everything, had been a part of every event, I now more often hear about happenings after the fact. It's partly that I'm not around as much. It's partly that they aren't either. Before I was always available, as was Big-Bold-D and the G-man. But that was five years ago. Much has changed. But through all the changes, I was always on the inside. But it is the inside that is going out.

I'm not the only one feeling the ties loosening. Many of us are reaching out for something new. But for the new there is a sacrifice. To fully grasp the new, the hold on the old must be slackened.

New beginnings are not clean breaks from the past. The old coming to an end and the new gaining prominence is a slow progression. So slow that we don't realize the impact when it begins. So slow that we don't notice the subtle changes as it works in the background. So slow that, by the time you notice the power of the new, it has firm hold and it is too late to fully save the old. We're past the point of no return.

I'm not saying that it's the end of the old. In this case, I'm not saying that our friendships are over, but I am saying that they are fundamentally changing. Life isn't new or old. Life is changing. And it's not really changing from one definite thing to another definite thing. It's just changing constantly. I accept that. But I also recognize my power to guide my life's changes to an extent.

Through winter-time we call on spring,
And through the spring on summer call,
And when abounding hedges ring
Declare that winter's best of all;
And after that there'’s nothing good
Because the spring-time has not come....
—William Butler Yeats

So, here's to the old, the new and every beautiful moment in between.