Beauty Is Not Enough

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Spring

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.

Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

It’s spring. Though it feels more like a distant cousin. A time of year in which we struggle to find our place during the uncertainty of seasons. When we throw off our jackets and listen to blue jays. Then huddle in our heavy coats and listen to howling winds. When we both turn our face to the sunshine and dance between raindrops.

It is that unpredictability we crave when the earth beneath our feet is frozen solid in winter or lush with summer greens. But the fickle springtime plays in quicksand, leaving us wishing for stability, making us wary.

Sometimes we see the roughness of the world around us, regardless of its softness and beauty. Sometimes in spite of it. And, sometimes, it just ceases to be enough.

In these moments, I take a deep breath and return to my OneWord for this year: “embrace”. I embrace the uncertainty, the rough edges of life, and only then am I able to embrace its beauty.

My random thoughts in 200 words or less.

(This has become an annual celebration of April coming in like an idiot, babbling, and strewing flowers. 3rd year I’ve seen this old post and thought “how fitting…” The uncertainty of spring mirrors life yet again.) 

Here’s to embracing the year as it unfolds. Happy Spring, gentle readers. 💚🌿

You can read the entire poem here: Spring by Edna St. Vincent Millay

When Beauty Is Not Enough

 

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Spring

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.

Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

It’s spring. Though it feels more like a distant cousin. A time of year in which we struggle to find our place during the uncertainty of seasons. When we throw off our jackets and listen to blue jays. Then huddle in our heavy coats and listen to howling winds. When we both turn our face to the sunshine and dance between raindrops.

It is that unpredictability we crave when the earth beneath our feet is frozen solid in winter or lush with summer greens. But the fickle springtime plays in quicksand, leaving us wishing for stability, making us wary.

Sometimes we know what we know, regardless of the beauty around us. Sometimes in spite of it. And, sometimes, it just ceases to be enough to quiet us.

It is then we raise our voices. To communicate. To be heard. To say that we will not be lulled into silence with the unfurling bud and promise of a bright and beautiful thing.

 

I found this post from last year and thought how fitting, in a very different way, it was this year. The struggle to find our place during this uncertainty. Our craving for unpredictability then, when it arrives, our wish for stability. The wariness. The need to communicate. The promise of an unfurling bud turning into something beautiful not being quite enough anymore. 

Be well, gentle readers. Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other. Create your own joy. Dance between raindrops and turn your face to the sun when it shines. ❤

 

My random thoughts in (a bit over) 200 words.

 

 

You can read the entire poem here: Spring by Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Beauty Is Not Enough

 

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Spring

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.

Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

It’s spring. Though it feels more like a distant cousin. A time of year in which we struggle to find our place during the uncertainty of seasons. When we throw off our jackets and listen to blue jays. Then huddle in our heavy coats and listen to howling winds. When we both turn our face to the sunshine and dance between raindrops.

It is that unpredictability we crave when the earth beneath our feet is frozen solid in winter or lush with summer greens. But the fickle springtime plays in quicksand, leaving us wishing for stability, making us wary.

Sometimes we know what we know, regardless of the beauty around us. Sometimes in spite of it. And, sometimes, it just ceases to be enough to quiet us.

It is then we raise our voices. To communicate. To be heard. To say that we will not be lulled into silence with the unfurling bud and promise of a bright and beautiful thing.

We will not hush.

We will shout.

 

 

My random thoughts in 200 words or less.

 

Here’s to finding your voice, being heard, and speaking up for yourselves. Happy shouting, gentle readers. ❤

You can read the entire poem here: Spring by Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Vernal Equinox: Balance in a Time of Imbalance

 

 

I found a post from exactly one year ago and, unfortunately, I’m in a similar place. I thought this year would be different but, alas, I’m here…in this post about a day not working out the way I wanted it to.

I’m exhausted and overwhelmed. I’ve taken on too much and have fallen way behind online and in real life. Looking back at this post from last year tells me something: I need to change. I accept that.

Easier said than done, as they say. I’ve got to agree. They are right.

I’ve never liked the term “balance” because, as I’ve stated numerous times, it’s unattainable. But today is the first day of spring. The Vernal Equinox.

This is a time of balance.

On the equinox, day and night are of equal length as the sun crosses the equator. Today, we experience the same amount of darkness and light—outside and within ourselves. Take a moment to meditate, to reset. Adjust any imbalances you feel.

I wrote that just two years ago. I’m going with it. Though it seems contrary to what I’m saying here, it’s not. Adjusting imbalances is not quite the same as trying to achieve balance.

While I won’t be chasing my tail in a futile attempt to attain complete balance in my life, I will be sitting. Just that. Sitting. Breathing. That’s nice, too. And paying attention. To the things I’m neglecting that need more attention and the things I’m spending too much energy on that are draining me. I will try harder to listen to my inner self.

I found this, too:

This is a time of beginnings.

We are being offered a fresh start. Spring cleaning removes dust, dirt, and clutter from our homes. The debris that has accumulated over the cold months can be swept away, leaving an inviting space. Our external environment affects our internal one. In this way, we are helping clear our minds as well.

I needed to see that. To reread those words. To remind myself what I believe to be true. And to do something about it.

 

The Vernal Equinox is a time of balance and beginnings. It’s a perfect time to take stock of your life and press the reset button. It’s also a great time to start new projects or dust off an old project and breathe life back into it. Mother Nature is backing you up right now. What will you do with this gift?

 

Happy Spring! 🌼 (And, to my friends in Australia, Happy Autumn!)

 

Vernal Equinox: Spring in My Step

 

Today is the first day of spring. The Vernal Equinox.

 

 

I had this really cool post planned. It was introspective and thought-provoking.

It was full of serious talk and thinking stuff.

Instead, I wound up with this barrel full of monkeys. Because that’s what my brain feels like.

I finally fell asleep around 4 am last night. So, I’m working on about 3+ hours of sleep. I’ll let you in on a little secret: I need eight.

Where was I?

Right. The post mentioned all the wonderful things I was going to do today.

I had plans to pause, enjoy nature, seek balance, embrace something new. Pretty much none of that happened. (Unless you consider exhaustion-induced zone-outs “pausing”.)

I will copy two lines from the post:

It is a time of beginnings.

It is a time of balance.

The Vernal Equinox is, indeed, both of those things. Spring is a time of new beginnings and the Equinox a time of balance. I wanted to embrace these.

I didn’t.

You know those days you walk into a room and forget why you went in there? Or you open the fridge seven times because you forget what you were looking for? Yes. It was one of those days—all day.

No fresh starts or balancing for me today. I ruined it.

Or did I?

Because, I used this opportunity to not do things. Such as beating myself up for not posting this morning, not reading other blogs, and not getting to my own blog comments.

Also, I didn’t get angry at myself for not living that perfect day I planned.

For me, that’s one hell of a fresh start.

As far as balance? I accepted that, along with the light, joyous pieces of me, there are dark, upsetting ones.

I’m human. I’m whole.

There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m going to just put it out there and say if you’re all sunshine and no shadows, you’re probably pretty boring. Or lying. Which might make you slightly more interesting but certainly not any more likable.

So I didn’t have a beautiful first day of spring. But I did have one more day on this earth. And I learned a few things while I was here. (One of them being that I can go a whole day without beating myself up about anything. And I’m counting that as a win.)

 

My Sunday thoughts in a sleep-deprived ramble of nowhere near 200 words.

 

What happens when you plan a day and it falls short of your expectations? Do you give up? Beat yourself up? Move on? (Or a combination?)

 

Happy Spring! (And, to my friends in Australia, Happy Autumn!)

 

Venus & the Crescent Moon

 

Mother Nature reminded me again last night to appreciate its beauty by simply looking up.

It was twilight when I looked out the window and caught a glimpse of the sliver of moon calling me.

As I stepped outside, I noticed Venus was shining, sparkling, bright directly above the waxing crescent moon. It was breathtaking. While the soft blue sky slowly turned cerulean then indigo, I just stood there, feeling at once very small and also as if my Self could not possibly be contained in my human body – I was connected to these celestial bodies.

The feeling of being part of something larger is a conundrum. It’s intimate – I want to keep this for myself yet share it with the world.

I am sharing this moment, as I have before, of looking up.

Whether there are glittering snow-covered branches, rich orange autumn leaves, pale rays of sunshine filtering through pine trees, or dragon-shaped clouds, nature is there. If you look, it will provide peace, calm, joy, wonder.

We are too often looking down or not looking at all – not paying attention to what is around us, never mind what is above us.

Look up, gentle readers.

 

 

My Sunday thoughts in 200 words or less.