There is a cherry tree in the secret garden outside my window, and it’s in full bloom. It’s right outside the window adjacent to my desk, and so I’ve watched the branches progress from bare to nubby to pokey to bits of bloom to full bloom. It’s gorgeous. I keep wanting to somehow make it more permanent; Appreciate it in a way I’m somehow not. I get this way every spring, desperately looking around wishing it could last and thinking that there must be something more I could do to appreciate it. No, really appreciate. Realistically the only thing I can do is be more present.

I remember this same feeling: it was how I felt when my life kicked into high gear spring of 1996. I knew that pivotal, important, transformative things were happening, and tried to keep my eyes as open as possible so I wouldn’t miss them all. I read back in my journals from those years, and there’s this tone of urgency to my writing…As I look out at that cherry tree, I feel hints of that same urgency. I know spring happens every year, but I still find it awe-inspiring and remarkable.