I have been very emotional lately.  I have made some decisions over the past few months that I have not been able to put into action.  I’ve also been reminded to be patient, that things happen in God’s time and that I can’t rush some things.

Not seeing direct results is usually difficult for me.  Not seeing my intentions manifest quickly can make me question a decision or my will.  Shouldn’t something be happening by now? I’ll think.  How will I know when an intention has taken root if I don’t have the goal in hand?

In the spiritual tradition I follow, both effort and grace are cited as important ingredients to a contented life.  Both need to be present in order to achieve the most worthy goals. When I got together with friends recently, we discussed the concept of praying running. I think there’s a similar implication here.

It’s important to pray for what you want, to clarify your mind about your values and your heart’s desires, to get out of your small self and connect with greater forces to move you in the most beneficial direction. It’s also important that your actions are aligned. It’s understood that it would be hard to lose weight if you consume a couple packages of Little Debbie Snack Cakes everyday.

So I think I had this emotional meltdown a few weeks ago because I forgot things are in process.  I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t find enough girlfriends to cry to on the phone, was not perked up by art or interested in many things that usually delight me.  Changes (deep changes) are taking root now even though the routines of my life have not seemed to alter much.

Conflicted emotions, anxiety and doubt, have been occupying my mind the same way mounds of snow had come to occupy my front steps, the back alley, my yard and deck. It has felt impossible do get out of my home this long, cold, snowy season, and it felt impossible to contain my emotions any longer, my anxiety that things weren’t happening fast enough, my doubt whether the seeds I planted would bud at all. I sunk into a sort of despair.

Then, the other week, I noticed the sound of water trickling down the gutters at the sides of our building.  It meant ice was melting on the roof. I still wore a hooded jacket when I went out, but I wasn’t afraid my car would get stuck in the deeply rutted and grooved alley. And John’s black tarp-covered gas grill that was totally buried under snow since December -– I am now able to see it when I walk out the back door.

My emotional meltdown came about because I was trying to keep a lot in.  Maybe I even was afraid that someone would judge me for what I felt. I had to remember I was entitled to feel what I felt.  Being sad didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful. It took me a while to get to this point.

And the meltdown in my backyard came about in its own time too.  Regardless of what the calendar says and what the average temperature is supposed to be, sometimes I have to remember spring will come — when it’s ready.

Accepting that the end of a season or the end of an emotional winter happens in its own time is no small thing.