Spring Cleaning

It has been one of those years; one where everything seems different. The fall was short and sporadically dispersed between cold wintery days. The winter was only in days, there were no weeks that felt like a solid season. Now, in Georgetown, we are waiting to see if it is really spring. We have a saying here, "It isn't spring until it's snowed on the dogwoods." Every year the dogwoods bloom days before the last snow. Well, they've bloomed...but no snow. This week, it even rained a cold rain, but, no snow. The mountains in the distance are marvelously devoid of the deep white that usually fills the rivers by now and we are left wondering what else will be different this year.
The rhythms of life seem off right now. I wonder how to recapture them, or is this another unnamed season in an unknown land as we journey toward simplicity. It is at times like this that I am convinced there is another world; an unseen yet wholly involved reality swimming quietly beneath the mundane. I can feel is watery flow moving the rocks I thought I had placed securely. Like a river bed in the spring rains, everything inside me is moving, shifting, unsettled and changing beneath the surface of life.
I feel completeley helpless to shape my future; restless as this other-wordly flow moves and places all things anew. I can only hope that when all has been moved and sifted that the bedrock of my life will be left clean and de-cluttered. That the action under me is purifying me in some way. I hope that the water is washing my soul and scouring the polluted past in preparation for a brighter future.