Springing into a New You

Regardless of your religion or lack of one, spring is a time when you can’t ignore the rebirth around you. At last the barren trees and bushes promise leaves, the gardens begin to flower.

Some don’t think past the advent of daylight savings time and warmer weather. It’s time to plan vacations. Some don’t like to think abstractly at all—ever. The fact that the seasons are changing is enough. Period.

Many people don’t want to picture human beings as part of life on earth. We’re above and not related—the same way many never stop to wonder what those who lived before them sacrificed and endured to make it possible for them to arrive on the scene. They’re busy fretting that they don’t have as much as some other people do. Mostly, they don’t relate that fact to anything they have or haven’t done. If they think of their ancestors at all, they resent that no one left them an easy fortune.

If you don’t consider rebirth—the progression of descendants, you don’t feel any obligation to the future. ME and MY GRIPES are central stage. Nothing else, no other time or place, is important. When certain religions morphed into clubs celebrated with grand buildings and magnificent sound, based on group-think that didn’t require kindness or standards of behavior to and for everyone, most people decided they didn’t need religion or even science, because they were sufficient unto themselves and their own wants. No one asked why do I deserve to live now, in this place, with these companions—human and nonhuman? Why am I here? Don’t think. Just get ahead. And then die. The end.

Spring demonstrates that life needs to refocus periodically. Plants and animals adapt to changing conditions as best they can. We try to bend the planet to our wants. In doing that, we also bend ourselves into people we no longer respect. We don’t like ourselves very much. We don’t find ourselves worthy. We aren’t smart enough, attractive enough, rich enough—and our situation has to be someone’s fault. So we take out our frustrations on other people. What else is there?

The beauty of spring is the chance to pause, to look at our lives and ask ourselves how satisfying are they? What are we doing to make ourselves and those who come after into happier, healthier human beings? We flower by enjoying the fact that we’re alive. It’s time to prune the dead blooms—get rid of habits or relationships that made us miserable and fertilize ideas and loves we want to grow. As humans, we’re uniquely gifted with the ability to change. As plants thrive beside their “friends,” so can we. We can make friends where we had none before. We can help people we never helped before. We can learn from people we never expected to have as teachers. We can thrive.

Or we can deplete our resources, starve our most basic needs in order to be showier, attempt to bloom where uncaring feet will trample us. We have mobility—the ability to move our feet, our attitudes, and our minds. It’s time to move away from the dark selfishness of winter.