Like in a farm field in southern Indiana, in the first week of January?
Jack and I took a ride yesterday to a new brewery in southern-ish Indiana. It's a darling little place with rockin' IPA's, hard cider, and nachos that are made out of tater tots. Seriously, does drinking GET any better? Not that it was about drinking but it was our first date in a while. I have this hang up he's trying to alleviate...when we host company, I inevitably have to stay home with "the girls" because they don't want to visit breweries or someone's not feeling well, etc. As a result, I've been to about two of Indianapolis' 294 breweries.
So I blew up in a stupid and immature manner the other day, claiming that I "never get to do anything cool." I know this is not true, hello, I get to go to Rome every year, have beautiful friends and family, and have the very unusual experience of liking/loving my job. But, hey, in the moment, sometimes a girl needs the honor of gracing a new brewery with her beau.
En route to said brewery, we started noticing a crazy color as we raced down I-65 South....GREEN. What were those beautiful green fields that looked a little like broccoli? In contrast to the stormy/gray/rainy sky of January 9, why did I suddenly feel like I was in Ireland? Why did I feel inclined to take a deep breath of gratitude, that spring was only a farm field away? I know winter wheat greens up pretty early, but the earliest we have ever seen it was March. Late March.
I texted my friend Vera to verify the winter wheat diagnosis. She conferred and confirmed. Yes. Indianapolis is just that spring-like, with our mild, El Niño temps, the winter wheat is already sprouting. "Rejoice," she said, "for this is a tried-and-true sign that this won't be a bad winter."
Did I mention that, 24 hours later, I am sitting in our living room, hypnotized by the swirling snowflakes outside? With a peek of sunshine every now and then, it's snowing without purpose; the flakes sort of drift around as if there's no gravity. It looks artificial, actually, that I'm on a movie set and someone's piping fake snow onto my property. It's very pretty - like the snow that you imagine when lovers glide around an ice-skating rink, Louis Armstrong singing in the background. Don't tell anyone, but I like the snow. It is our first snow in Indy this year and apart from a couple snowstorms throughout the winter, this is about all we get. Jack and I declared this a snow day; despite his having to work for a couple hours earlier, it seems like a perfect excuse to not leave the house, light the fireplace, not get dressed beyond our Adidas pants and Notre Dame sweatshirts, and cook a roast in the oven. I'm sure hot chocolate is on the menu later.
Despite the snow today, the green farm fields gave me hope. An odd source of hope, but still hope.
What else has given me hope lately? The fact that the days are getting a teeeeeeny bit longer each day; it's no longer pitch black at 5:15 p.m. The fact that I taught my first 5- hour long class last Thursday and survived. Holy cow, that's a long time. But it went well, despite taking every morsel of energy I had that day (and the next day). The fact that the sense of peace with which I was gifted in Italy this past fall remains with me. I had a "rock" of "yuck" in my chest before we went on pilgrimage. I have not written about the pilgrimage but plan to eventually. I bitched a lot during the trip itself, for I do not usually take well to group outings and someone else's schedule and agenda. I am working on that but the Rock of stress/worry/anxiety/guilt/obligation dissolved in Italy and has not yet returned. That gives me hope.
My parents are finally starting to eat well and take care of themselves. They no longer hesitate to say "I love you" when they want to - for years, those were words we didn't say too often. I have no idea why, but I am glad they are making a resurgence. It gives me hope.
My own slaving gym routine is giving me hope right now...that I am not beyond hope. With the insane stress of my hospital ops jobs and grad school, I have not seriously worked out in years. I walked on the treadmill most nights after work, racking up between 10-14 miles a week. But I never ran, did any kind of ab work, or weight lifting. That has changed and my "new day" began on December 27. Since then, I walked 28 miles, running 9.9 of them. I have done almost 3,000 crunches. When I got out of bed yesterday morning, I felt leaner. Like I had less of a gut. Surprisingly, consistently doing 200+ crunches a day will have an effect on you (!). This whole consistency thing is a bit shocking, for I cannot remember committing to any fitness goal like this before. It gives me hope.
As does my other area of newfound consistency - that of prayer/meditation. I am terrible at regular prayer intervals but find it easier to carve out moments of mindfulness throughout the day. Those moments lead to moments of prayer. It's like of like my "crunch challenge." I cannot do 365 crunches at one time, but if I do 50 in the morning, 200 as part of my workout, 50 after dinner, and my last batch before bed, they are all accomplished. Same with prayer....while I cannot easily complete all of my wonderings/reflections/prayers in a 30 minute setting, I can find a few moments here and there throughout the day. This gives me hope.
So while it's still not-quite-mid-January, I have hope. Hope that everything will be okay. Hope that warm, sunny days will return soon. My blood pressure is under control, the rock of yuck is far away, and I have a roast succulently cooking in the oven on this snowy Sunday. It all gives me hope!
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