March Reflections

I got lucky this year. I skipped February, spending that sad grey month in another country halfway across the world, under blue skies and blazing sunshine. I always forget the power of it, and the doors it opens within yourself.

March is sneaky. Sunny one minute, and cold and grey or white and frosty the next. My garden doesn’t know what to do. I don’t, either. In between bouts of cold so fierce it makes my bones ache, I’m pottering around my garden, watching the first, fragile leaves unfurl on the lilac and my roses.

Unsurprisingly, the dog thinks March is wonderful. He got zoomies in the water meadows today, flying between the ice-covered twigs and tall grasses, tongue hanging out and tail going mad.

When he stopped, grinning and panting for breath, there were ice crystals dusted over his black nose and caught in the fluff of his ears. It was impossible not to smile. And I think that’s the point of March – it does make you smile. You smile when the golden daffodils pop up and when the first snowy blossoms touch the cherry trees. You smile when the mornings are gilded and the ice is kissing the grass, and when the rain hammers down, and you curl up inside with a blanket, a steaming mug, and a good book.

This month is a time of change, and I always like to pause and reflect on that. This year, I’m making big changes in my life. They’re scary, but that’s how I know they’re right. If I’m not scared, I’m not dreaming big enough. Although making this particular change felt like a huge deal, the minute I made my decision I felt…lighter. Happier. Hopeful. And that’s a wonderful thing when the world is as dark as it currently is. Hope is fragile right now, and it should be celebrated wherever you can find it.

I’ve had a couple of months (OK, more than a couple) of writer’s block. Or, not a block exactly. More like lethargy, like I can’t even face picking up a pen and making my brain function long enough to put words to paper. But it’s another good sign that as soon as I made that big change in my life, this has eased too. It’s like doors and windows have flung open inside of me, and the sunlight is flooding in. The words are flowing out of my fingers and running across the page once again, and although I’m a little creaky, I’m just pleased to see them.

A whole week of March has been lost to being ill. At the start, I thought this was the end of the world. Plans got cancelled, and I was too exhausted to do more than carve a groove between my bed and the sofa. But as I’ve started to get better, it’s reminded me to slow down. I don’t have to rush around and stick to my weekly schedule of gym sessions and seeing people and doing the chores – I can, actually, choose to rest.

Rest is a word that’s tossed around a lot. People talk about self-care and baths and candles. But what it actually means (for me at least) is spending time just…being. Not rushing anywhere, or moving on to the next thing, or thinking about something you need to do… Just sitting, wrapped in a blanket, watching the rain beating on the window.

As adults, we don’t often get time to just be. Time to sit and ponder whether we want to read a book or bake a cake or sketch, or watch a favourite comforting TV show. Being ill (and too exhausted to do anything much) forced me to slow down. It’s been wonderful.

Let’s see what the rest of March holds. Remember to take care of yourself too.