Amy Lu's View

“April showers bring May flowers”–definitely a saying made for a cool and rainy April day like today. I’m no gardener or botanist, but I have faith that flowers are coming and have even noticed a few blooming already (like the phlox and perhaps even the dandelions–setting aside a “weed or flower?” debate–in our very own yard). 

Spring feels like an elusive season, especially in Minnesota: Here one day, and then the next day it’s summer and then back to winter. That’s definitely how it’s felt this year. 

This spring seems like a good metaphor for my feelings these days: sunny and hopeful, then rainy and moody. I want to go out into the big wide world that I’ve been denied/been avoiding for months, but I also want to stay in and hibernate forever. 

Many days, I feel like Toad in the story “Spring.” I want to stay in my metaphorical (and sometimes literal) bed with my covers over my head, even as my dear friend Frog tries to coax me outside. 

When I decided to finally continue my “Frog and Toad Blog Challenge” with the Spring story, I was only vaguely familiar with it. I had no idea it was going to be so appropriate to my feelings concerning a return to our new normal, post-COVID pandemic life. 

Yes, I’ve blogged about this ambivalence before, and since that post, I’ve been affirmed and comforted by many more stories and columns (especially in the New York Times) about people having anxiety and fear and confusion about adjusting to a different life. With apologies to John Lennon: “You may say I’m a weirdo, but I’m not the only one.”

I’m seriously trying to ponder and accept that my life doesn’t have to look exactly like it did. It may be hard to make choices, but I can re-evaluate my priorities. This can be a process that I don’t have to have figured out all at once. 

And really, while it will probably never feel quite so dramatic or pointed or urgent as it does now, shouldn’t I always be doing this, even without a pandemic?

In “Spring,” Frog employs a little bit of deception to coax Toad out from his bed. He pulls all the months off Toad’s calendar until he gets to May (even though it’s really only April–Toad has declared he sees a big difference between April and May). 

I’m not opposed to being my own Frog right now. I’m in favor of a little self-deception of the “Fake it ‘till you make it” kind. 

And not to throw any shade on April, but there is something special about May, “When May is rushing over you, like desire” (“These are the Days” by 10,000 Maniacs, and yes it would be awesome if I could learn that song for church Zoom coffeehouse). 

Desire for what? Safety? Connection? Variety? Theater? Sunshine? Bourbon? Rest? Challenge? Excitement? Noodles? Music? Joggers? (the pants–not people–because they are RUNNERS!) Cheese?

My problem and blessing has always been that I have desire for all these things, and so much more, but having these things all at once isn’t usually very successful. Or it may be more or less successful, but it’s usually exhausting. I want to feel the rush, but don’t always want to be in a rush.

10,000 Maniacs do actually answer the desire question, and tell us the desire is “To be part of the miracles you see in every hour.” 

Of course, Frog and Toad end “Spring” by going outside together–and isn’t being together (whether physically together or emotionally, spiritually, etc.) one of the biggest miracles (besides cheese?)