Tinkering With Moments
I’ve come to realize that I am a tinkerer.
For some folks, tinkering happens out in the garage or in their workshop. They scatter their tools along the bench and either take something apart or put it back together. It’s like a project that never quite gets finished, but it’s always worth returning to.
My tinkering happens a little bit differently.
I fiddle around noticing the quiet moments that are right in front of me.
This time of year is a perfect example of it. The calendar says spring has arrived. But we all know better than to rush towards that announcement. My morning walk still begins with a pair of hand warmers in my pockets.
But this morning, if you slowed down just enough, there it was.
Peepers.
Just off the path in a wet and swampy section of woods, the spring peepers were warming up their vocal cords.
Each year, I like to think they wait for me to be walking by for this exact moment. First here, then there, and suddenly they are all around us.
No matter what winter still has to say about it, spring is not going to be canceled this year.
We still have a slow crawl ahead of us.
The crocuses and the dwarf irises look ready to break into a run though.
Daylight is on our side too.
And mud puddles are taking the place of snow piles that were abundant just a short while ago. Literally.
I’m not sure about you, but my mind is ready for the hop, skip, and a jump into warmer weather.
My curiosity sensors are on high alert again.
Those familiar things that occupy our days are beginning to shift. I have to think about what to wear and make sure what I choose is going to match the temperature outside.
Little by little, even the food we eat starts to take on different flavors. Soups and stews are slowly replaced with lighter sandwiches and maybe a spring salad. I’ll crack a window open for as long as I can get away with it.
And my dogs? They’re starting to think about getting outdoors to lay on the blanket of sun that is beginning to cover the deck again.
Older projects from the darker months are slowly giving way to something new.
Even my creative veins are starting to flow more easily. Things that have been sitting quietly are stretching and nudging their way forward again.
Spring is the best when it comes to making old things feel new again.
It’s not going to happen all at once. The unfolding happens the same way that most things in life do—gradually, almost unnoticed—until that day comes when you realize we’ve crossed that line somewhere along the way.
In a few weeks I’ll return to work again, picking up a lot of those familiar rhythms right where they left off. New people to meet, small exchanges that happen between guests and staff. It’s a natural occurrence with nothing dramatic going on. Just a few brief human moments that come and go throughout the day.
Without seeing it, I can already feel it.
Eventually the landscape is going to deliver us to a place where we know for sure that winter is not coming back until next year.
The daylight will continue to stretch. The air will soften. And all the emotions connected to another season of life will quietly return like old friends who never really left.
A small adjustment here.
A little tweak there.
And more tinkering with all of the moments that pass through my days.
When I think about it that way, it makes life feel less like something that needs figuring out and more like something that’s simply asking me to pay attention.
Talk soon…
G