As we bid farewell to winter, dormant sentiments reawaken, ushering in a new season of mindful creation. I find myself in a phase of implementing ideas seeded nearly a decade ago that are just now coming to fruition— ideas I did not have the time, resources, or even the skill to attempt are now making their way from my heart, through my hands, and out into the world.
It has been a bittersweet experience, gathering tools while actively cultivating my ever-growing nursery of ideas; the pest of creative accountability nibbling away at my garden. While I am currently in the process of pulling weeds and tying up loose ends, I have hope for what will bloom from the seeds planted in this moment.
“Hope springs eternal in the human breast; / Man never is, but always to be blest; / The soul, uneasy and confin’d from home, / Rests and expatiates in a life to come.” (Pope, lines 95-98)