Online: | |
Visits: | |
Stories: |
by Tina Zarlenga
tiny buddha
“The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.” ~Ernest Hemingway
For years I cursed spring.
During that time my heart woke to the bitterness of life. In the harsh frost of winter my anguish and the season were one, a climate where I felt safe, cocooned in a blanket of grief, a camouflage that ensconced me from the world outside.
Like grief, winter brings the bitter cold to our life, and those withered months drenched in sorrow tasted natural.
In the time I lingered frozen in my shroud of despair, spring had arrived, with feathered creatures whistling joyous songs while the leaves danced up our driveway. The warmth of the sun was a charlatan, exasperating my pain while seducing me like a stranger to a foreign place.
Welcoming the signs of spring felt like a betrayal of my grief. For years I remained suspended, cursing the seasons, as if they had something to do with my anguish. Spring represented an unwanted gift, and this rebirth offended me. How could life continue when I stood so raw?
Read more »
Every Day is Earth Day