With all due respect and apologies for anyone who has a February birthday I have to admit that the second month of the year has always been dreary and difficult for me. Not even Valentine’s day is enough to boost my flagging morale in the shortest month of the year. Honoring Martin Luther King, Jr. inspires me and reminds me of the hardships that many people have endured but the often grey days of this month induce a kind of malaise in me and make me wonder how anyone is inspired during the seemingly endless rollercoaster ride of ups and downs of sunshine followed by grey skies.
I find myself becoming obsessed with worry during February. By this time I have abandoned many of my resolutions for the new year and faced the realities that there will be few changes that last as long as I planned. I tend to navigate back to tried and true routines that have proven to work for me over time. I long for days spent working in my garden when nature bursts forth in full bloom. I can only take so much of the long sleep before the glories of March that has forever been one of my favorite times of the year.
As both a student and a teacher February was always a tiresome month when it felt as though I was never going to be able to accomplish all of the academic demands that had to be met by the end of the spring semester. Keeping myself on task was always a challenge as I daydreamed about travels to exotic places and a time when I might lift my nose from the grindstone of responsibility.
February always seems to be the time when I get really sick. It is the month when I endured the measles when I was nine years old. I’ve been knocked on my backside by flu or bronchitis more than once in the shortened month. There is something about the timing that daunts me each year. I look ahead to an end of the grind and it feels so far away. I know that my students and my colleagues shared my dip in enthusiasm and productivity in February as well. We often discussed how difficult everything felt in that month.
I have often thought of how wonderful it would be if we were like the bears who hibernate in the winter season. I don’t think I would want to miss the whole of winter but it would be nice to slumber through most of February just to get over the hump in those last days when the weather and the lack of longer days feel almost endless. February takes the resolve of January and tests it mightily.
I’ve always managed to maintain the pace in February, but internally I have dreamed of chucking it all many a time just before the first signs of spring rescue my optimism and determination to enjoy this ride that we call life. I’ve often attempted to understand exactly what it is about February that vexes me so, because I actually enjoy rainy days and staying inside with a good book. I suspect that it mostly has to do with anxiety about the long stretch of the year ahead. I suddenly panic each February with thoughts that this may indeed be the time when I am finally no longer able to overcome all of the craziness of the world around me with a smile on my face. February just never has worked for me.
I’m hoping that my resolution to join my neighbors in a daily walk around the neighborhood will change the routine of past Februaries. I’m doing my best to adjust my attitude. I wonder if I have allowed February to trigger the negative side of my feelings for too many years. Instead I should perhaps view the month as a time to contemplate possibilities rather than worry about the mundane. If I fill my days by looking outward at the needs of others perhaps I will experience a change of heart. Maybe that’s what Valentine’s Day and February should be all about.
When I think about Martin Luther King, Jr. I see a man who was often conflicted about how to proceed in his work and his life. He might easily have drifted back into a comfortable private life rather than enduring the slings and arrows that ultimately led to his assassination. He had moments of longing to run from his responsibilities. He was very human like the rest of us, but he also understood the importance of the work that he had to do. He stumbled for a time but always got back into the battle for the civil rights of all humans. He had his February moments and overcame them. Perhaps honoring him in the month of February should be all of the inspiration that any of us need to keep moving forward into the fulfillment of our dreams.
So I’m getting up from my pity couch and keeping on keeping on. It’s what we humans do even in the grey days of February. March will soon come storming in like a lion and will lead us to the lambs of spring and the reawakening of our optimism. Life will indeed be better if we choose not to allow it to bring us down.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 