A Well, A Spring, and Seasons of Death and of Life

I’m eating a bowl of life with a pot of chocolate velvet coffee brewing behind me after having gone on a walk in the beautiful morning sunshine without a stuffy nose or itchy eyes while on the phone with Carole-Marie. Needless to say I’m having a fairly good morning.

There is a season every year where I crawl into my shell and want to disappear. It is a season of darkness and borders on depression. Some of it may have to do with my fall allergies, but it goes beyond simple congestion and histamine. During this season I become overwhelmed with school and feel alone, entirely alone. One of two things will happen during this season: I will either draw nearer to God or He will become a mere acquaintance.

I feel as if I am pulling out of this season.

This is a season marked by my well drying up. I don’t write during this season. But here are words. My mouth is no longer dry. I’ve had a longing inside of me to write. And finally the spring fed the well. I wrote a song yesterday afternoon. Words and music came pouring from my heart and soul. Finally water came spilling out and I was refreshed.

Seasons are different for me than they are for most people. Most people see the seasons circling around with their symbolism. Spring is birth, summer is life, fall is dying, and winter is death.

For me fall is death. Because it is the season where this darkness creeps over me. Winter is life. Because my veil is lifted and the air is chilled with Christmas cheer and people all around are joyful. For me, the beginning of winter is like a sunrise pushing the death and darkness of fall away. I picture white snow like purification and innocence. Winter is a restoration of things to innocence. If spring is birth, then winter is the forming of a child in the womb. Pure innocence. Untouched by dirt and scars of life. I await this season with impatience.

I always write some ambiguous blog entry at the end of these dark seasons full of pictures and metaphors. Here is mine for this year.

I finish writing this, sipping on my cup of chocolate velvet coffee. I think of my wonderful morning and how I’ll be spending tonight with my brother. These moments are life. And life is returning with the sunshine of the seasons. I’m walking out of this dark shadow into life. And I can feel that I’m walking towards God.

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One thought on “A Well, A Spring, and Seasons of Death and of Life

  1. Pingback: Seasons and the Soul | Drew Dixon

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