Happy first day of spring! It’s felt so long in coming this year. I know winter might have one last breath to blow our way, but I’m not worrying about that now. I’m thinking about warm breezes, bright green new leaves unfurling, and the blooming of the forsythia — always my favorite sign of spring.
I’m also thinking about this:
I was looking through photos from my last Jamaica trip, and came across this guy and realized I never posted many (any?!) of my pictures from that trip. This is from Falmouth, where I stayed for just a couple of days at the end of my trip. I was sitting on the verandah of my little shack on the beach writing, saw something out of the corner of my eye … and there he was. Slow-slow-slowly, I reached for my camera, hoping not to scare him off. Not only did I not scare him away, I got to watch his excellent little show:
And I thought about the ways in which we are often required to change so completely to fit our environments, the times when we wish we could change that completely, the times when blending in with the background is anything but desirable. And I wondered what the lizard feels when he’s changing, how he knows he’s changed enough. And I tried to remember how I’ve felt in those times when I’ve made a conscious effort to step out of the wallpaper and become visible.
I’ve been focusing on change for a while now, since I made the decision to have my knee surgery, since I began to recover. Not just the “simple” change of learning my life with this new joint, but deeper and more complex changes to who and how I am and what I want for and from myself. I’ve been stumbling with a whole lot of one step forward, three steps back, letting fear hobble me. I’m looking to do the lizard in reverse, step finally and fully away from the wallpaper and embrace my technicolor. Yes, it means the birds will be better able to see me. I say: Bring it.
All the other slicers are hanging out over at Two Writing Teachers!