“Now is the winter of our discontent…”- Richard III.
Okay, so it’s not Winter anymore, but I couldn’t resist borrowing from the Bard considering how much I was exposed to him as an English major in college. Gotta love my literary boyfriend Billy Shakespeare.
Here in the northern hemisphere, we’re heading out of the cold grasp of Winter and moving towards a much more warm and bright time of the year. It’s a time where the everything killed or hidden by the frost starts to peak out and grow. It’s the season of rebirth and renewal.
It is officially Spring.
Not only has Spring sprung, it’s a bit of an emotional Spring for me.
Confused as to where I’m going with this? I apologize in advance for what you’re about to read. This post may get a little weird, but I’m going to follow this line of thinking anyway because any idea spanning five-hundred words or more is better than no idea and a blank page.
Still with me, then? Let’s begin.
I’m not saying your emotion will always match the current season, but the seasons can represent the different emotional stages we can feel throughout the years of our lives. These times of the year are just like our own experiences that we can go through during the year. If you break each season down, they kind of match up to these emotional states or represent them to a certain extent.
What can I say, I’m a writer, and I like analogies.
Like I said, it’s a bit of a stretch, but I’m going for it anyway. Feel free to jump off of this crazy boat at any time.
Like I said, Spring is the season where everything emerges from the frost of winter and plans to start anew or for the first time. Fallen seeds buried beneath ice and snow begin to grow under the warm sun and melted snow, hopefully into beautiful flowers.
I want to believe that, in this analogy, I’m the seed. Right now, I’m trying to emerge from my own personal depressive frost and reinvent myself into something more. I’ve spent so much time in the cold depths of my own self-hate, and I’m ready to warm up to a new beginning. Emotional Spring is the state of overcoming hardships and growing into something more.
Hopefully, I’ll grow into something beautiful before the harsh light of the sun burns me out.
We start to adjust to our new emerging lives before we are forced into the sunlight of a seasonal scorcher.I’ll be terribly honest here and tell you that I hate Summer. It’s too hot and everything feels heavy. Summer, emotionally, is the state of being where everything has grown, and there you are front and center. The sun warms you as you stand in its spotlight. At some points, it’s nice to be recognized and to feel complete. Other times, the sun’s light can be overbearingly hot. In either case, the sun in inescapable.
Then, the wind begins to chill as the clouds hide the sun’s spotlight. Like or not, things start to slow down.
Fall, or Autumn as some might call it, is an interesting season. The colors are more vibrant than ever. You are more vibrant than ever having grown in the spring and warmed by the sun, but you’ve always grown tired. You haven’t yet been brought to a halt, but you can feel everything beginning to slow down like it’s ready for some sort rest.
See? These seasonal poetic analogies just write themselves.
Unfortunately, following Fall, the next season matches all too well to the harshness of it’s corresponding emotion.
Winter. It covers it all.
Like most seasons and emotional states of being I suppose, winter is experienced differently for everyone depending on where you live in the world. Some experience it mildly, a little chill here and there. Others are buried under twelve feet of snow in a state of hibernation.
See where I’m going here?
While I love the actually season of winter, I’m a total snow bunny, emotional Winter is awful. Everything just stops. The sun, though everyone tells you it’s there, feels like it’s been dissolved by the icy wind and clouds that now reign in the sky. Everything feels hopeless like the sun has gone away and will never come back.
Anyway, maybe I’m crazy with all of this (probably). Maybe there’s something to this. Who know?
Thanks for joining me on my crazy analogy post.