Spring is Here

Weeding the garden on bare feet, my cheeks all happy and rosy in the April sun calls for bold ideas. So Megan and I brace the cold water once more.  It is not the dip in the lake (cold!) but emerging with blood rushing to my skin. Energy for free. And I do feel better. I feel more alive. With a counselor who is practical and sweet and who knows ashram life. I create more space in my day and fill it by playing autoharp to my songs, eagerly awaiting the arrival of my own instrument (any day now). I don't cry but smile, and even have proper conversations with people, instead of shying away from each and everyone. It must be the testosterone flooding the ashram, with the relatively large influx of young men. We are all amazed: They are so tall! They aren't female! The turkey is showing off in front of the yoga room, rosebushes are pruned and windows washed, Shakti building is infested with large and small (flying) ants. Spring is here.