the merry month of may

I love May. In southern New England, place of my birth and raising, it is the month of dogwood and azaela's, with hints of mountain laurel and rhododendron showing promise. The world is freshly green and blue skies penetrate branches bursting with new leaves and the fragrance of potential. It heralds the approaching end of the school year, daylight stretches longer still, and an air of festivity is palpable. It is the May that lingers in my memory.

May is also my birth month, so it is worthy of honor for that reason as well (at least in my book!). This year, that anniversary will cross the threshold of fifty, an occasion that seems as much incomprehensible as inevitable. Where have the years gone? And where will the next succession of them take me? Although I have always known that we have the capacity--if not the obligation--to chart our own course, I am more aware than ever that I have done myself a disservice by not spending enough time with that chart. Too many intentions and wishes have slipped by to do things I wanted to do, and too many decisions were deferred until it was too late to take sufficient action.

On the brink of a new decade, I feel poised to take some corrective action. As seems to happen as we age, I am more willing to let go of things, as well as ideas. The space created in my home and in my mind is open to entertain new ideas, and to respond to new opportunities (and yes, in some cases to accommodate old "stuff"). It is a time of expansiveness and dreaming that wasn't possible earlier in my life, and for which I am grateful. The big five-oh isn't a frightening benchmark but a springboard for what lies ahead.

As the saying goes, bring it on!