Spring is powerful. The life force is rising ridiculously. It’s almost like life is starting over. In the mud. Again.
Ah, the mud. It’s everywhere. Sticky and squishy and everywhere. There is no place mud can’t reach. I used to dread spring out on the farm because I could mop the goddam floor twice a day and it would still be covered with mud all the time. Drove me crazy.
And even now, mud doesn’t exactly inspire adoration in my heart of hearts. I think that is probably true of most people. But mud is the great incubator of life. We may have been born in the stars, but we were planted in the mud. Mud is a holy thing, goddess help us. It is owed a certain amount of reverence, and I’m pretty sure it probably doesn’t get it.
Part of it is conditioning. Mud, dirt generally, is the enemy. The ideal home is spotless and mud-free. Who the hell lives in the ideal home? Sheesh. Patriarchal nonsense. House keeping is defined as “women’s work” and so women are given one more impossible standard to, honestly, snub our noses at. Screw that noise.
But Spring brings cleansing rain, which washes away mud and dead leaves and grime leftover from Winter, and Spring winds blow dry and sweep away what’s left, leaving the world ready to burst into absurd blossom and rebirth. Humans get into the spirit as well, clearing away debris from the yard, cleaning out closets, getting rid of outgrown or worn out clothing and shoes, opening the windows and giving things a good dust and vacuum.
Because you have to clear out the old in order to make way for the new.
(The exception of course is books. Always keep the books, unless they are very, very bad, and always buy more books because … books.)
Once more for the folks in the back: You have to clear out the old in order to make way for the new. That might mean an old habit, an old guilt-trip, somebody else’s pain, an old belief about yourself, a toxic job or a bad “boo.” Spring is the time to let it all go. Release it to the cleansing rain and the rejuvenating wind. Allow yourself to become unencumbered. Relax, release, restore. Let Nature be your role model, destructive and glorious, but more than anything else, alive.
And it’s all quite necessary.
Destructive isn’t all bad, although it can mean a certain amount of uncomfortable upheaval, and it can be quite terrifying. When I broke my marriage and ran, there was serious upheaval, and there were moments when I questioned whether I was really doing the right thing – and those questions were always answered in the affirmative the next time I had any interaction with Himself. Oh, boy was I on the right track. Glory hallelujah! What a mess! So worth it! It took time to feel safe and secure again, but not as much time as I feared, and relatively soon I was on my feet and doing way better than I ever expected I would.
And a few years later, even my ex came to understand that we are both better off without the constant struggle to get along and understand each other.
I made way for something new and did I ever get it! I often say I don’t even know if I would recognize 2010 me if I saw her walking down the street. That life chapter is so over it’s basically a different book in the series. The joy and purpose I feel now are worth every bit of upheaval and pain.
You have to clear out the old in order to make way for the new. Blessings on your Spring cleaning, with or without the upheaval. May you make room for peace.