the first spring

Right on schedule, glorious warm weather has exploded on the San Francisco bay area over the last few days. It’s harder than usual to feel preoccupied with Nancy’s passing. The cycle of the seasons has taken me, loss in winter, rebirth in spring. In fact, I feel more alive and future-focused than I have in a year. It’s so spectacularly nice outside, both day and night as we had a full moon this weekend. It’s my first spring time as a single man in nearly thirty years.

So I hiked, hot-tubbed, dined out, went to the SF ballet, drank tequila, hiked some more. I spent time with important, lovely, kind and affectionate friends. Attended a remarkable dharma talk at Sukhasiddhi, by Lama Drupgyu. Found new wheels and tires for my resurrected BMW sedan, then ironically had to change a flat tire with four new ones in the car. Cooked a delightful dinner late at night, and watched the moon setting over the hills at 6am this morning.

It’s amusing that the ballet was Don Quixote, one of the very first novels ever written (right after invention of the printing press), a story of an older man re-entering his youthful aspirations, making mistakes, going on the Hero’s Journey, finally initiating into maturity. It was a very fine performance by the way, and I have to say that the SF Ballet is Doing Very Well, speaking as a 40-year attendee.

So much of what I do now feels distantly familiar, an echo of my life the last time I was single. I have to start where I am, reconnecting to things I’ve always been passionate about but allowed to slide into the background. I’m older now, so my hips ache after hours of hiking and climbing, I don’t drink like I did in my twenties, I’m not staying up late night after night.

But I feel younger, finally looking forward to what is coming into my life more than I grieve loss in the past. Don’t get me wrong, loss is still ever-present, I water my garden with tears every day still, and I wonder how many months or years that will continue.

And…there are fresh flowers on the altar.