March and April have been incredibly muddy months. I feel like in Montreal we seamlessly transitioned from long months gray, cold and snowy to gray, chilly and rainy with barely any pockets of sun in-between. Some days feel very repetitive and doomy, waiting for the clouds to part finally. 

When lamenting about the wait to a friend, she shared this piece from Parker J. Palmer on the muddiness of spring. An excerpt that especially stuck out to me: 

As my personal winters turn slowly toward spring, I find it hard enough to keep slogging through “the mud within.” I find it even harder to credit the small harbingers of new life to come, hard to be hopeful until the outcome is secure.

Spring teaches me to look more closely within myself and trust the green tendrils of possibility: the intuitive hunch that may morph into a larger insight, the glance or touch that may start to thaw a frozen relationship, the stranger’s act of kindness that makes the world seem like home again.

For me, the mud within is coming from the discomfort I have with being bored in this transition period. I just wrapped up a big project at work. It’s the season between skating and cross-country skiing and cycling outdoors. My flower seeds are still not sprouting. I find myself trying to fill in the empty moments in-between with noise – the radio, a show, a podcast, plans with friends. 

Sheng Wang, one of my favourite comedians, came out with a new special on Netflix recently. What I like most about him is that his jokes are about everyday things that can seem mundane – Costco pants, using moisturizer, playing pick-up basketball with. His humour comes from the ability to find something funny about situations we all pass by without much thought. Here’s a short interview clip with him talking about the need to be bored in order to notice. 

Being so uncomfortable with boredom makes me realize I need to de-brainrot myself a bit. I’ve turned my phone to black and white, trying to move my devices a bit further from bed everyday, and form my own thoughts before I jump to the comments section. I’m creating the space in-between for myself, because nature is reminding me to.