April Thrills by Kathryn Merrifield

A thought that crossed my mind today, amid all of my sometimes stormy interior life, as I was looking out the window past the altar of the room at Kaia Yoga. I could fit in a class today so I did.  That thought is, that I love the wind.  Wind is thrilling and known to churn up the wildest of behavior in people. Maddening to some, but not me.

Located in a desert, my hometown was a basin surrounded by mountains where smog often settled, low enough to invade our lungs and make breath sometimes painful. Counterintuitively, my home town was also a passage for the Santa Ana Winds. Even on a warm summer night, they’d blow through the oak trees and my memories of that invisible force still elevates my senses and transports me momentarily to my youth where the experience epitomizes the high spirited sensation of freedom. 

That was not the thought of the moment though.  The thought of the moment as I looked past my toes to the bronze statue of Genesha, was that you cannot hold the wind, all you can do is feel it and watch it move whatever is in its path. In this case, leaves on a mostly barren tree. In this case, something inside yet not at all contained in the frame of a window to the outdoors was moving because something else gave it barely a push.  A massive gust was a tickle.

A good sign, I consider this, because that means spring and spring infers new beginnings with a clearer ground. It means perfectly pink cherry trees and the magnificent Magnolia that blooms only for seconds, and teaches us about the momentary pleasures of beauty, like they’re the momentary pleasures fo joy.

Especially, spring offers hope and the warm promises that optimism conveys as the sun draws closer, the days grow longer and all good things grow into something new. That any suffering is temporary, that the exquisite feast of the eyes on this extraordinary explostion of color is both out of our control and within our reach, and that nothing lasts forever. Only perception.