Too much to contemplate

Where have I been? You’ve wondered, admit it. You probably thought I’d jetted off to a sunny and exotic destination, like St. Martin or Dominica. I wish.

Truth be told, I’ve been distracted by the promise of Spring. I’ve been submersed in plans for a garden, plans for a vineyard, plans for new books and new web sites and new blogs. In other words, I’ve been thinking about a new life, my own personal renewal. And it is this renewal that keeps me rooted in the promise of Spring.

This past week, Christians commemorated Ash Wednesday (Ash Monday if you’re a Maronite), the 40 day period in which we are directed to contemplate death: ours and Christ’s, the latter which brings with it the promise of everlasting life, meaning death isn’t really about dying but rather about being born into something new, something wonderful, something that resembles Spring, as viewed from Four Cedars Farms smack dab in the middle of February.

Some might say a journey through life is nothing more than a journey toward death. The adage that the only certainties in life are death and taxes is wrong. (If you don’t believe me, ask Ron Paul.) The only certainty in life is death; it’s the final stop on the journey. Fini.

But wait. If death is permanent, how do you account for tulips, bud break, snow melt, and tax refunds? How does a lamb slaughtered for Passover find new purpose as a family’s feast! How do you account for Easter … the Resurrection?

This is the promise of Spring: we can die to old habits, unreliable processes, stagnation, boredom, other people’s expectations, unrealistic expectations we place on ourselves, and we can begin life anew just as those stark trees along the property line now bending under the pressure of our latest Alberta Clipper will begin bursting forth with new life in … more or less ... 40 days.

Spring. It’s worth contemplating.