On seasons.

I fell in love with The Fantasticks the first time I saw it performed by a nearby high school.  I was in high school myself, and it appealed to my notions of romance vs. cynicism.  Particularly the romance — and I don’t mean just the boy-girl stuff (though that was there too).

Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That love was an ember about to billow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow.

**

Remembering September in the deep of December.  This song; the ideas, the seasons of weather and life — they seem to surround me now, like when you learn a new word and then suddenly see it everywhere.

I know we aren’t in December.  But I feel it.  I feel it coming and I get anxious about it on a visceral level that surprises me because I am not an anxious person.  Not usually.  But there’s something about winter, about the dark and the cold and the long months after Christmas that bring out my materialistic side and make me wish for resources to spend half a year in the other hemisphere.

Fall is short.  It always feels rushed to me; one day the leaves are green on the trees, the next they are a million vibrant colors, the next they are lying brown on the ground.  I think it feels short because I love it.  And because darkness is around the corner.

**

I am a Sun Baby, I tell my boyfriend and he rolls his eyes.  Eye roll = truth.  Maybe it’s more than sun for me.  Maybe the warmth is home — my entire childhood spent happily sweating in deserts, squinting in the brightness, watching glasses fog up stepping in and out of the AC.  The heat an ever present backdrop to our treks around the Middle East, a comforting blanket at night, a blazing force by day.

There are hot and cold climate cultures, my friend tells me.  She explains some of the attributes of each, and it makes sense.  She is another Third Culture Kid, of Thailand, and she is perpetually cold, even during mild California evenings. I used to tease her about it, but now I’m right there with her, missing my sandy homes, my warm nights and toasty ocean swims.

**

This whole weather thing is, of course, one of those metaphors that I could take an extended dive into.  When going through a heavy workload or a difficult time, it’s important to look to Spring, and — if that’s not possible — use memories of September to get you through.  Before there can be rebirth, there must be death.  Winter isn’t so awful if you dress properly and have a positive mindset.  (Grad school isn’t so bad if you study and smile.)  There is great beauty to be found in Winter…

**

There is more to The Fantasticks than a nostalgic song and a young couple falling in love.  It follows the young love through testing experiences and captures a wider angle on the ups and downs of life.  The full picture; all four seasons.  A time and place for each event.

Interesting.