There is something reassuring that spring weather is as unpredictable as a teenager’s shifting moods. The unpredictable is predictable.
It’s a constant balancing act—recalibrating every few minutes to a new reality. Such is spring.
As I studied Balance throughout the last four seasons, I was reminded of this constant: Such is life every season.
Last Saturday, there was one minute when all was in balance: 12 hours of day, 12 hours of night. After that one minute, the balancing act continued. We crossed the Spring Equinox into a new year.
After 20 minutes of waffling on how to dress for the weather a couple Sundays ago, I resigned myself to being ill-prepared for something and finally left the house for a walk with my friend. I did bring a hat, I didn’t bring gloves. I did wear a raincoat, I didn’t bring an umbrella. I seriously considered sunglasses. And, of course, I had my mask.
Twenty minutes into our walk while we were talking about the pros and cons of various weather apps ironically, a huge grey cloud rolled toward us and the wind immediately picked up.
“Uh oh. We better take cover.”
We huddled under some tall bushes for the next 20 minutes while the heavy cloud cried its way over us.
By the time we wandered into Columbia Park a couple miles away the sun emerged and we were carrying our coats. Eventually, back at the coffee shop where we started, more grey clouds were rolling in. Too immersed in our conversation, we kept sitting out in the open as the rain started plopping on the picnic table. Then dinged as it quickly became hail.
We paused for a few moments to look around wide-eyed as the hail grew bigger, faster and louder. So we talked louder. While I was busy shouting, another part of my mind marveled at being so exposed to the elements, sitting right in the middle of a storm.
Of course, we were soaked. But, how could one experience this from indoors?
Then, I watched the grey clouds move on to bombard another part of our North Portland neighborhood. There was a striking Yin/Yang division where the blue sky and grey clouds collided. Just as quickly as the hailstorm appeared, we noticed a rainbow.
“Wait, is there another one? Right next to it—in parallel?”
A car stopped in the middle of the street to ask us: “Are you seeing what we’re seeing?”
Yes! There were two indigo and purple arches wide enough for many Care Bears to slide down. And then a third higher up in the sky for the Leprechauns too!
Simple joys enjoyed on a simple afternoon of mostly doing nothing.
This is what I want to learn about in this next cycle of growth: simplicity.
So, I’m curious:
- What does simplicity mean to you?
- What gets in the way?
- What enables it?
And, if you want extra credit: What’s a recent moment that felt so beautifully simple?
I’m all ears.
May you linger in amazement this week.
Love,
Jules
I share a lesson learned about integrity every Monday. Sign up for delivery right to your inbox. Want more? There’s lots more lessons learned here on my blog, so have fun exploring and commenting about your own insights!