Song (and flowers) of the soul

"Love of my life,
I am crying, I am not dying
I am DANCING
Dancing along in the madness,
there is no sadness
Only a song of a soul."

- Cris Williamson

Today at church we sang this song (Song of the Soul). Not to get all churchy on people, but I've spent a lot of years leaving Catholicism behind me and I have a lot of problems with going to church, because, well, it's church. I disliked it for years, and that's a hard habit to discard. But I have to admit that I every time I go to UU church, I enjoy it. I always take something away from it. And I cry more in church than I do just about anywhere. There's a peace there that allows me to relax enough to let many things touch me. We're in between ministers at the moment, and today our layperson gave a talk about a 10-day silent retreat she went on. I don't know that I could do it - but it sounded amazing. And it challenges me, challenges my boundaries. So it's a great experience... what's wrong with that? I hope that today a little more of the wall fell away. If I'd designed a religion, it'd be the one I'm in, so that's a great thing, no?

Anyway, singing the above... gives me some inspiration for this week as I try to get through more days at the machine:

I am crying, I am not dying
I am dancing
dancing along in the madness, there is no sadness
Only a song of the soul.

This is my very being and I will dance.

As for the flowers... there's no doubt that April was damn cold and spring is way late. I overheard a couple people at church today - one talking about walking the Wonderland trail this summer (all the way around Mt. Rainier) in July, and the other guy replying he didn't know if it'd be passable at that point, there's a huge snowpack. But down here in the lowlands, in the last week the (usually mid-April) cherry trees have exploded; tulips all over; magnolias in high fragrance; the lilacs are in bloom; the grass is greeen green green... I feel like I can breathe again. Even the cold mornings means mid-40s and 60 is no longer an impossible high. I've felt very color-starved lately, so seeing all the gorgeous, showy raucous joy of spring has been a major balm.