Ahhh…spring! The longer days, the warm sun, the returning birds, and…the mud. Yep, mud. Just at the time we are “raring to go” to break free and dance into the new possibilities that spring promises here in Vermont, Nature again shows her balanced wisdom — providing us with ample opportunity to stop, to notice, to experiment, to wait. I agree with Vermont essayist Will Baker who suggests “Perhaps Mud Season in Vermont is all about constructive tension, when we find ourselves poised between where we were and where we are headed.”
How do you want to respond to the constructive tension that spring transitions bring? When you experience the slip and sink of mud, the best strategy is to move forward slowly, steadily, consciously choosing where you want to go, staying alert, aware, and present. Yeah, wish I’d thought of that!
In reality, it is very tempting to just gun it — rev the engine, and power your way through. But sitting here in my suddenly closer to the ground car, I am learning that sometimes when you pour on the power, you just get stuck — really, really stuck. The over-the-wheel-wells-how-did-this-happen kind of stuck.
Sometimes all it takes to get moving again is a little time and
sunshine, or a little time and cold, to either dry things up or make
the road firm again. Then you can drive out easy as pie (as long as you
haven’t dug in too deeply).
If, on the other hand, you have managed to dig yourself in, the best, easiest way out usually shows up in the form of a friendly farmer with a chain and a tractor, and mud boots that go up to his waist. He’s already out in the woods because it’s maple sugar time. If you are stuck, just look around — help is on its way. And, speaking of maple syrup, it can help to remember that mud means things are changing and there are sweet rewards to be had.
So while we’re waiting, why not make mud pies? Since we’re gonna be in the mud anyway, we might as well revel in it.
To change…Here’s to “mud in your eye!”