Though it was the end of February, the day was a lazy sort of cold. The sun slipped through the cloud in bursts, reminding the landscape that it was still there, prodding snow piles to relax into puddles and stirring sleeping seeds under the ground.

Erika Roebuck

These are the days of relaxed puddles and stirring seeds. When things thaw and new light emerges. Grey turns into green and pink and purple and yellow. Lazy cold gets too tired to be persistently vicious. The roots of dreams break through unfrozen ground. Irises thrive in the last snow. The perfect timing of the seasons breathes new life.

That is the promise of February. Resolutions have come and gone. Grey skies thirst for the sun. Stark trees welcome buds and blossoms. February is about the first few minutes of gently waking up. It is the moment before coming out from under the covers when the bed is still warm and there is time for it all. Reveille has yet to sound on the trumpet. (That feels more like March to me.) Goodbye February. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 

What I Keep Learning

Rosana and the Airplane

When we lived in Miami, we went to an old-school Argentinian steakhouse on Fridays for happy hour. The woman who waited on our table was a beautiful combination of light, energy, and kindness named Rosana. We recently discovered she bought an airplane fuselage and opened a restaurant on an undeveloped lot a few blocks from the restaurant where we used to eat. Yes, that’s right. An airplane fuselage. The restaurant has an airplane theme, an airline uniform-clad staff, and a full menu. I am in awe of her courage and strength, energized by her capacity to build and thrive, and inspired by her ability to make her dream come true.

What does Rosana’s success mean for us all? It exemplifies the power of our mind and will. It asks us to believe in ourselves and the value of relentless work, hope, faith, and love. It reminds us of our past’s tempered steel moments and draws on those in our present and future. I think about Rosana’s story when I internally debate going on a training run. I think about Rosana’s story when I make another writing contact amidst thoughts of shame, doubt, and futility. I think about Rosana’s story when I am fearful, exhausted, angry, and distracted. She has no time for fear, exhaustion, anger, or distraction, only clear skies and flight.

Happy Birthday, Dear Grandmothers

Grandmothers are treasures. My grandmothers were born in February. Emma Marie Schmidt Briggs. Kathlyn Virginia Pontrich Steedly Halliburton. They lived nearly one hundred years. They passed away years ago. I always pause and think of them in February. They taught me about unconditional love, generosity, and faith. Emma was a card player (She had a bridge group for the better part of 50 years.), puzzle solver, murder mystery reader, and Southern Living follower. Kathlyn was a rose gardener, Vegas winner, church leader, and dance lover. Their lives still speak to me. In peonies and irises. In cards and puzzles. In dance recitals and sick days. In beauty shops and Bojangles. In visiting and community. My brother and I were the twinkle in their eyes. (Everyone should experience being the twinkle in someone’s eye.) Our well-being was woven in their hearts. Their strength taught us the power of love. 

I am made from the same stuff. That gives me a sense of peace and stillness. As things fall apart and back together again and again, I am made of the same stuff. As my body carries the weight of years and still persists, I am made of the same stuff. As I tend and care for people and things, I am made of the same stuff. As I seek to live lovingly, I am made of the same stuff. 

Habit Tracking

This week, I will get back on track reporting habit building. You might remember at the beginning of this year, I wrote about the habit contracts my husband and I established. Well, I have had some successes and failures. As of this week, I have created a freelance writing “pitch list” (following the guidance of the writing course I am taking) and have reached out to more than 25 organizations. I am registered for a half marathon at the end of April. The race is eight weeks away — that is significant in body conditioning time — and I trained three days this week. We stood at Mile 7 of the Atlanta Marathon this morning, cheering on runners, so I feel inspired. (Rosana would get her training in over the next eight weeks. Rosanna would send out 100 pitches and follow up on 100 leads. Rosana would do yoga every morning and journal with the intensity of Julia Cameron.) 

Paying Attention

1. February — Tamiko Beyer
2. On the Ice — 30 for 30
3. Anne Lamott on How We Endure and Find Meaning in a Crazy World — Maria Popova
4. The Danger of a Single Story — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
5. Seeking Language Large Enough — David Whyte